Cat and Mouse
by cyberelf
Summary: AU, between The Avengers and Thor the Dark World. Loki/ Female OC. Excerpt: "If I had been able to get on that last train, I never would have laid eyes on him. He never would have come into my life. I never would have seen his face or known his name. Not getting on that train was the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me. I'm still trying to figure out which it was…"
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Between people going to Salem and the Bruins game, North Station was a madhouse.

It didn't help that I was laden down with a small rolling suitcase, a messenger bag, an oversized purse, and a backpack. It had only been a four-day business trip and as usual, I had packed way too much stuff.

I worked as a Human Resources Representative for a financial consulting firm in Boston. I had been in New Hampshire for four days, working various job fairs across the southern half of the state. For four days I had been plugging my company's message, collecting resumes, sightseeing the fall foliage, and driving way too fast in my beautiful rental car.

But now I was back home in my beloved Boston. My rental car had been returned, leaving me to get around via the MBTA system. And boy what a mess it was getting home. North Station was usually pretty crowded, but this was so much worse because my impeccable timing had caught the Bruins rush at exactly the right moment.

Oh, and it also didn't help that it was Halloween night.

Shouldering the messenger bag, filled with two pounds of resumes, I proceeded to wade my way through the sea of black and gold and Halloween costumes. There were so many tourists, looking lost, obviously trying to find their way to Salem for the night's Halloween festivities.

It was certainly fun getting myself and all of my bags through the gate onto the platform. I had no idea how I was going to get everything onto the T, which was likely to be very crowded. Uugh, all I wanted was to get home!

While I waited for the T that would take me home, I couldn't help but scan the crowds of costumers with amusement. I wasn't really into Halloween, but I did appreciate the people that went all-out on their costumes for the holiday. This year the theme was clearly The Avengers. The incident with the aliens in New York hadn't happened that long ago, and people were in full Avengers fever. Even all this time later, I was having a hard time believing that any of that was real. I had been in Milwaukee at the time on another business trip. The shitshow in New York had canceled my flight and left me stranded there for four days. I ended up busing my way home. I had never believed in aliens until then, and even now I was still having a hard time believing that what had happened in New York was really a result of aliens.

However, everyone else seemed to fully believe that aliens were real, and that the Avengers were too.

Dotted here and there in the sea of black and gold were Captain Americas, children in Iron Man masks and Thor hammers, girls dressed as very skimpy Black Widows, and even one shirtless college-aged guy with green body paint. There were other costumes of course, but the Avengers costumers certainly stuck out the most.

Uh oh, wait. There's someone in a Montreal jersey in here. He sticks out even more than the Avengers people, and not in a good way. He's being super obnoxious too by making jeers at random people. He is also about to get beaten to a pulp by all these Bruins fans who are glaring at him.

Oh please just get me home.

Finally, I saw my T approaching. I shouldered my bag of resumes once again, relieved that my chance to get home had finally arrived. I pushed my way through a group of hesitant and lost-looking Bruins fans to the front of the platform, just behind the yellow line. I was going to be home soon, and I couldn't wait.

Then my smile faded when I realized, shit, that's one very full train.

There was no way I was getting on that train, not laden with all of the shit I was carrying. What the hell were all of these people going to that end of Boston for? Most of them were adults in costumes, so I figured they must have been going to the bars. A large number of them were in Avengers costumes, and there seemed to be an abnormally large number of Captain Americas on this train.

The train came to a squealing halt. I groaned. There was no way I was fitting on this train, but I figured I had to try. I used my bags as a battering ram and tried to force myself onto the overcrowded train. I pushed and shoved, and so did a number of other people around me. I needed to get on this train. I wanted to go home.

Despite my efforts, I was unable to get on. Resigning myself to defeat, I stepped back onto the platform and waited for the next train. It was going to be a few minutes, so I let my bag of resumes drop to the floor and leaned against one of the columns. I was absolutely exhausted. If the floor wasn't so disgusting, riddled with food wrappers and ages-old gum spots, I would have sat down on it to give my aching feet a rest. But that was not an option; so instead I leaned my weight against the column and let my eyes lazily wander around the station.

That's when I saw him.

If I hadn't been people watching, I probably wouldn't have noticed him. He blended so perfectly with everyone else. No one else seemed to notice him. But unfortunately I did. If I had been able to get on that last train, I never would have laid eyes on him. He never would have come into my life. I never would have seen his face or known his name.

Not getting on that train was the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me. I'm still trying to figure out which it was.

The console buzzed loudly as the gate swung open for him. His movements were so smooth and graceful. His black suit and overcoat moved perfectly with his slim body as he walked through the gates. The cream and green scarf wrapped around his shoulders swayed slightly with his movements. He stood tall and proud, with his shoulders back and his chin held high. Everything about him screamed sophistication and class, and he reminded me greatly of a prince. I had never seen a prince before, but if I ever did, I imaged that he would look like this man.

It wasn't his kingly stature or his calm, smooth demeanor that had me staring. It was his face. His face made my knees feel weak, and if I weren't leaning against the column, I probably would have fallen over onto the disgusting floor. His high, pale cheekbones were well defined, and his thin lips were curled into a devilish smirk. His black hair was smoothed perfectly behind his head, and his pale complexion was smooth and perfect.

As he approached, I was able to see his eyes, and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. His eyes were like two emeralds, and they shone in the pale fluorescent light above. His piercing gaze swept the station. He seemed to be looking for something, and seeing as how he wasn't looking down the tracks like everyone else, he wasn't looking for a train. His gaze swept near me, and I shuddered and felt sick to my stomach. For some reason, I didn't want him looking at me. Something in me stirred and screamed at me to stop staring at him in order to avoid drawing attention to myself. I didn't want him noticing me. I had no idea why, but suddenly every part of me was screaming to get as far away from him as I could.

Obeying my instincts, I turned my gaze away from him. I kept an eye on him out of the corner of my eye, making sure that he hadn't noticed me staring at him. It was all I could do to keep myself from staring, so I decided to pull my phone out of my pocket and stare at that.

Oh shit. He was coming over to my end of the platform. He wasn't looking at me, but he was definitely heading over this way. I looked longingly down the tracks, hoping desperately that my train would come soon. My heart was racing. Why? What was it about this man that made me want to both stare at him and run away from him? I stared desperately at my phone, hoping, praying, that I wouldn't be noticed.

Shit, he had his eyes on me. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and out of the corner of my eye I could see him looking at me. I groaned and tapped my foot restlessly. The station was teeming with people, and quite a number of them were younger, more attractive college-aged girls in tiny costumes. No one else in here was looking at me. There were so damn many people everywhere that I didn't think anyone was paying particular attention to anyone, especially me. I was too normal, too modest, and too plain. I was still in my work clothes, and I was bundled up in my black fleece coat. I was the least conspicuous person here. Yet there he was, the most attractive man in all of North Station, and he was looking past all of the skanky girls to stare at me.

Come on, where the hell was my T? I heard the sound of the squealing breaks of a train and instinctively looked up. Shit, it wasn't my line. In the split second it took for my eyes to travel from the train and back to my phone, my eyes met his.

I still have dreams about the way he looked at me just then. His expression was a strange mix of curiosity, malice, and playfulness. He seemed to look down his nose at me, as if I were inferior, yet somehow I had his interests peaked. He smiled at me deviously, as if he were plotting something, and it made my heart race and my head feel fuzzy. It took me a few seconds for me to tear my eyes away from his, and they were the longest seconds of my life. I pretended like he didn't really bother me, like I didn't even really notice him. I played with my phone and pretended to look bored. But in reality I was screaming inside, and I could feel myself sweating profusely. If my T didn't come pronto I was going to lose it.

He moved closer to me until he was standing about a yard away. I felt sick to my stomach. Now would really be a good time for my T to show up.

Finally my train came bounding down the tracks. I didn't care how crowded this damn train was. I was getting on it, even if I had to kill someone for a spot. I gathered up my stuff, gritted my teeth, and prepared to fight my way onto that train.

When it came to a screeching halt, I began to shove. I was determined to get on this train, despite it being as crowded as the last one. I somehow succeeded in forcing myself onto the train, and holding my stuff as close to me as I could, I grabbed the handrails and prepared for a very uncomfortable ride. I sighed with relief when I heard the doors shut and felt the train jerk violently as it sped out of the station.

Being laden down with all of the bags wrapped around my shoulders, my grip onto the metal bar above was poor. When the train jerked into motion, my hand slipped, causing me to stumble. Everyone on the train was jammed shoulder to shoulder, so I didn't fall very far, nor did I fall onto the train floor. However, I did fall into someone, and I felt a pair of strong, cold hands catch me. They didn't hold me for very long, and once I was firmly back on my feet, they let me go.

"I'm so sorry!" I said instinctively, whipping around to face whoever had just stopped my fall. "I really am, I'm so sorry for-"

I choked mid-sentence. It was impossible. How did he get on this train? I didn't even see him get on, let alone get on right behind me. How did he follow me onto the T without me even noticing? My body began to tremble, and I felt dizzy and sick.

It was the man in the suit, with the brilliant emerald eyes and the hauntingly beautiful smile.

Standing directly next to him I was able to see just how much taller he was. I stood at only 5'5", and he must have been over 6'. His lips curled into a deviously playful smirk, and his eyes glinted with amusement. It was as if he was inwardly laughing at me.

After a few awkward seconds of staring at each other, I squeaked one last "sorry" and turned my back to him.

_Nice job, Em_, I thought to myself, _you just fell onto the hottest, biggest creeper on this train. Nice job_.

I could still feel him staring at me. His eyes were boring into me, and I knew that he was looking me over. It didn't help that with every jerk and turn of the train we bumped into each other (along with everyone else around us). It was the nature of standing on a train this crowded. However, every time he and I brushed against each other, I felt even sicker. I tried everything I could to keep my body away from his and to keep my eyes away from him.

"Next stop, Haymarket," the male mechanical voice announced over the intercom.

I was so tempted to get off here and catch the next train just to lose this guy. I didn't want to be near him anymore, and I certainly didn't want him seeing where I would eventually get off.

I stole a glance at him. He hadn't taken his eyes off me. A look of lecherous amusement spread across his features when he saw me looking at him, and immediately I whipped back around and looked away.

That's it. I made up my mind. I was getting off this fucking train now. I adjusted the messenger bag on my shoulder, adjusted my grip on the handle of my rolling suitcase, and prepared to race off of this train.

"Entering, Haymarket," the mechanical voice announced, "change here for the Orange Line."

My heart was pounding, and I had no idea why. I was even starting to tremble from the anticipation of finally getting off this train and getting away from this guy.

No sooner had that thought gone through my mind did I hear a soft whisper in my ear.

"Getting off so soon?" a smooth male voice whispered coolly into my ear. "I was just beginning to enjoy this."

Oh god he was talking to me. His voice was musical, and it purred so calmly as it whispered. It was strangely calming, but it had a hint of sharpness to it, like a cold blade that could rip through my flesh effortlessly. It gave me the creeps.

I pretended to ignore that little comment. The train slowed to a stop, but the doors weren't opening. We were stuck in traffic. There must have been another train in front of us that was holding us up. My breath turned ragged and shaky, and my hands grew cold and clammy with sweat. The longer we waited, the more agonizing being on this train became.

"Well well," the man purred in my ear, "this is certainly perfect timing."

"I'm getting off now," I squeaked, my voice shaking as much as the rest of me.

"But this isn't your stop," he replied. My heart nearly stopped. How the hell did he know that?

"Indulge me with your company a while longer," he continued.

My breath shook violently as it left my lungs.

The train inched forward, then jerked to a halt. I heard the doors open with a hydraulic whistle and a thud.

"Hurry if you want to get off," he whispered, "now's your chance. But do please reconsider."

My mind was screaming to get moving, to hurry off this train before the doors closed. The hustle and bustle of Haymarket station called to me, and I stared longingly at it. Yet somehow I was unable to move.

It was as if he had me under some sort of spell. I had every intention of getting off this train, but I was completely unable to make myself move. To my horror, the hydraulics whined and the doors closed with a thud.

Looks like I was stuck on this train with him for a little while longer.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

I looked behind me and saw the man staring at me with his piercing green eyes. He had a wide, evil smile upon his face.

"I figured that wasn't your stop," he replied, his voice ringing with a tone of amusement. The train accelerated violently, causing our bodies to bump against each other again. I cringed and whimpered under my breath. This was the worst T ride of my life. I looked at the man again, and his eyes glinted with amusement. He leaned forward, staring me straight in the eyes. Our close proximity made me extremely uncomfortable, and I thought I heard him chuckle under his breath.

"Much better," he purred, "now why don't you start by telling me your name."

"I'd rather not," I replied, my brow furrowing in disgust.

"Stubborn are we?" he chuckled. "Amazing the difference a little distance makes. Everyone here lives together in the same realm, the same country even, and yet such a small distance makes for very different people."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, thoroughly annoyed and confused. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

He looked genuinely surprised at my question. He raised one eyebrow at me and paused for a moment, pondering his answer carefully.

"Fascinating," he said, "my name and face were everywhere just a short time ago, and yet the people in this city don't seem to notice or care. For example, here you are, clueless as to who you're talking to. It's truly amazing."

"Look, buddy," I growled, "I don't know what you're getting at, but you need to stop and leave me alone." I was trying to act tough, but on the inside I was terrified.

"I look around this train," the man continued, "at all of these people huddled together like cattle. They are all very much a herd. They care not who rides with them, or what transpires in the Universe around them. I haven't been in this city very long and I have already noticed that this is a trend here. These people, they do not notice who walks among them, and nor do they care. Even extraordinary men are meaningless in their eyes."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I take it you're one of those 'extraordinary men'?"

He smiled mischievously. "You will see," he answered.

"I'll pass, thanks," I replied.

"Next stop, Government Center," the mechanical announcer chimed, "change here for the Blue Line."

I shifted my bags, strongly considering getting off here. The man looked sharply at me and shook his head.

"Don't try to fool me," he said, "this isn't your stop either."

"And how in the world would you know that?" I snapped.

"I have my ways," he said.

"What do you want from me?" I growled.

"Relax, love," he replied, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then leave me alone," I said.

With a loud squeal of the breaks, the train came to a halt. The doors opened, and a surge of people came onto the train. The added volume caused everyone to squish together further. I whimpered and almost cried when my body was pushed flush up against his. This was way too close for comfort. I looked around desperately for somewhere else to stand, for somewhere else to go. But the train was so overstuffed that there was nowhere. So there I stood, pressed up against this creep, wanting desperately, more than anything, to get off this train.

There was no avoiding his gaze now; we were too close together. He smirked at me and gripped the railing directly above my head. His face was very close to mine, and it made me sick to my stomach.

"Cozy, isn't it?" he teased, sensing my discomfort.

I pretended to ignore him. I pretended like the closeness did not bother me. I pretended like I wasn't afraid. But deep down I was very afraid, and somehow I also liked it. Despite how he creeped me out, he was very attractive, and being up against him somehow felt nice, despite my growing fear. It was the strangest sensation I have ever felt, and while I liked being so close to someone so attractive, it still made me want to jump off this train.

"You're trembling," he said. I swallowed hard. I could feel a bead of sweat forming on my temple from my nervousness. He leaned his face closer to me, so that I could feel his breath on my neck. It made me grow faint, and I could feel my knees start to buckle from the overwhelming sensation of his proximity. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered in my ear.

"Please leave me alone," I pleaded almost inaudibly, "whatever you want, get it from someone else."

"Next stop, Park Street," the mechanical voice announced.

"I must confess there is something I want from you," he said, "and don't you even think of getting off here."

His tone was soothing yet threatening at the same time. It made me shudder.

"Whatever it is, the answer's no," I said.

"Come now, help a stranger out," he purred. "You see, I got on this train rather by… accident. I'm not entirely sure where it goes. Perhaps you can show me."

"Get a T map," I growled in reply.

"Not as useful," he replied, "I could use a personal escort."

I could tell he was lying, and he was lying rather badly too. I almost got the sense that he was doing it intentionally. There was an ulterior motive here. This "escort" crap was just a ruse for something else that I didn't want anything to do with. "Not interested," I responded.

"Oh but I think you are," he replied, his grin widening and his eyes narrowing. "I saw the way you looked at me. You think your longing glances escape my notice? It was rather amusing, actually. Everyone else in this city has managed to completely ignore my existence, yet you stared at me as if I were some human idol. I can see your face twitching, your body trembling, and your breath catching in your throat. You pretend not to notice me, not to care. You pretend like I don't intrigue and captivate you, but I see differently. You are drawn to me." I shuddered again at this statement. "You had the opportunity to escape, and yet you didn't take it," he continued. "You stayed on this train willingly. These are your choices, so I think, my dear, that you are very interested."

I was barely breathing. He had seen me staring at him back there at North Station. My worst fears had just been realized. And now here he had me trapped with him, trapped inside this crowded train, with absolutely nowhere to go. I was pinned down and cornered, and I was too helpless to deny whatever he asked of me.

"Entering Park Street," the automated voice announced, "change here for the Red Line."

I stole a terrified glance into those brilliant, hypnotic eyes. He shook his head, denying me the opportunity to escape him.

Luckily, a large number of people got off at this stop, allowing everyone to spread out a little. I sighed with relief when I was able to put some space in between us.

"Whatever you want just hurry up and ask for it," I said breathlessly.

"Good girl," he said with a smirk. "Now, let's try this again. Won't you tell me your name so I know to whom I'm speaking?"

I groaned. There was no way of getting out of this.

"Emily," I replied, "Emily Sanborn."

It looked like I was helping this guy and telling him everything he wanted to know whether I liked it or not.

I dropped my bags to the floor as soon as I stepped into my apartment. I left them there in a careless heap, stumbled over to my couch, and collapsed.

What a nightmare this evening had been! I was so thankful that it was finally over and that the strange man was gone. I ended up giving him a tutorial on Boston's T system, getting him a city map, showing him around the entire Back Bay, and finding him a hotel in the Back Bay.

The entire time, we were fighting huge crowds of people in costume going to and from bars, clubs, and house parties. The man didn't look the least bit amused, and I also admit that it was getting a bit annoying after a while. When we passed by the colleges in the Back Bay it was even worse. There was one college guy in particular who came up to us, stood right in front of the man I was escorting, and started yelling all sorts of stupid stuff at him. He insisted that my stranger's name was Loki, that he was an alien, and that he was responsible for blowing up New York. The kid reeked heavily of beer, so I am attributing his outbursts to a drunken fit. My creeper looked less than impressed, and I was embarrassed on behalf of all of Boston.

Luckily, my creeper never asked where I lived, so after I left him at his hotel I got back on the T and went home. What creeped me out the most was what happened when I dropped him off at his hotel. Before we parted ways he promised me that we would see each other again. His words had me so panicked that I cried a little on the T on the way home. Fortunately he was staying in a different neighborhood than I lived, so I didn't have to worry too much about running into him. I was just going to have to stay out of the Back Bay for a while.

I actually didn't know how long he was staying here in Boston. I didn't know where he had come from or what he was here for. Shit, I didn't even know his name. He practically interrogated me the entire night, but I didn't know a thing about him. He never asked any specifics about where I worked or lived, but I did end up telling him some personal stuff.

God what a stupid move that was!

I certainly regretted it later.

Luckily I didn't work in the Back Bay, so I could go to work tomorrow without worrying about seeing him again.

Work. Shit. That's right. I had work in the morning.

Luckily the next day was Friday, but it was still another workday. It was already 11:30, and I really didn't feel like dragging myself up at 5:30 am to go to work. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, and the last thing I needed was to spend eight hours in a cubicle going through two pounds of New Hampshire resumes. But nevertheless, I had to go. So dragging my aching, exhausted body off the couch, I proceeded to get ready for bed.

5:30 came way too early.

I nearly broke my alarm clock when I hit it, sending it tumbling onto the carpet. It took me forever to quite literally roll out of bed, and I somehow made my way to the shower without falling over myself.

My night had only gotten worse after I got home. I spent most of the night tossing and turning because I was thinking nonstop about that guy I met on the T. He creeped me out so badly, and yet for some stupid reason, I kept dreaming about his promise of seeing each other again. I dreamt that I actually _wanted _to see him again. Stupid, I know, but that was what my subconscious was clearly thinking all night. His memory wouldn't leave me alone, and his face haunted my dreams.

I don't know why my subconscious was obsessing over him so much. It had not been a particularly pleasant evening, and it certainly wasn't something I ever wanted to repeat again. Why couldn't my evening with a hot guy have consisted of something normal, like a coffee date or a drink? Not towing his ass all over Boston! But then again, I had the absolute worst luck with men, so it makes sense that this kind of stupidity would happen to me.

I sighed. All I wanted was my coffee.

Coffee would make everything better, just like it always did.

I turned up the radio and proceeded to prettify myself for the day. I definitely put less effort into my appearance than I did in college, but I still cared about what I looked like. My hair was the color of pale straw, and it was cut into a short bob that was longer in the front than the back. Prior to getting this haircut two years ago I had never had hair this short, but it quickly grew on me. It was so easy to take care of, and it pretty much styled itself. My bobbed hair definitely made me look older, but it also made me look classy, and I loved it. I had decided that short hair was for me, and that I was definitely never going back to long locks again.

As I was putting on makeup, I heard the traffic report come on the radio. I chuckled as the announcer spoke too fast for the human ear to possibly follow. There were always so many traffic problems to cram into such a short segment that the announcers were impossible to understand. By the time you mentally processed the details of one accident, they had already discussed three others. Driving in this city was absolutely insane. I understood the pain of Boston commuters because I drove in this chaos plenty of times myself. Insane Boston drivers eventually totaled my poor Civic, leaving me car-less and dependent on public transit. But that was perfectly fine with me. I drove a lot of rentals when I had to travel, and everything else I needed in my life was a short walk or T ride away.

The announcer described a horrific backup from an accident at the Route 3 interchange, the backup on I-93 that stretched up into New Hampshire, the parking lots that route 128 and 495 had become, the standstill on Storrow Drive, another accident at the toll plaza on the Mass Pike, the gridlock in Callahan tunnel, and the 20 mph speeds on the Bunker Hill Bridge. I couldn't help but laugh as I listened to this. I was so glad that I took the T to work.

By the time I was done prettifying, it was already almost 7 am. I was definitely moving slow this morning. Normally I would have scrambled to get ready faster, but this morning I was so distracted that I really didn't care. So I took my time as I donned a charcoal women's suit, fashion scarf, and black pumps. Lastly, I placed my rimless glasses onto my heart-shaped face, making my almond-shaped blue eyes magnify ever so slightly.

I was now finally ready for work. So locking up my apartment, I proceeded out onto the street.

It was definitely cold this morning, and the air was damp. A thin layer of cold mist covered me, and I crossed my arms across my chest and shivered. The coat I was wearing was definitely not enough to protect me from the cold and the moisture. The two-pound bag of resumes hung achingly on my shoulder, and it too was getting damp from the mist. The clouded sky, faintly grey from the waxing morning light, hung drearily above. It was now November in New England: the greyest and most depressing time of year. We were not yet off daylight savings, so the sun was coming up later and later each day. Today I doubted that the overcast would allow us to see much light even when the sun did rise. And even if it weren't overcast, I wouldn't see much of the daylight anyway because I was about to spend the next eight hours trapped in an office cubicle.

My day was certainly going to drag even worse because of my distracted state of mind. The memories of last night were a muddled and confused mess due to my lack of coffee and lack of sleep. All of this: my state of mind, my sour mood, and my fatigue, were all a result of that damn creeper from North Station. He remained on my mind the entire morning, even in my confused, under-caffeinated brain fog. And no matter how much I tried to fight it, I had no choice but to give in to my own obsessions and desires to see him again. I sighed. I was completely unwilling to do anything today except go back to bed.

I needed my coffee desperately.

I stopped at Dunkin Donuts every morning on my way to work. I couldn't survive the workday without my morning cup of Dunkin. This morning I needed it more than ever, and I fully planned on getting a large with an added shot of espresso.

So I headed to my corner Dunkin Donuts and waited in the line that stretched practically around the block. Today the line was unusually long. It was probably from all of the people hung over from last night's festivities. I went to a Dunkin that was only accessible by walking, so it had no drive-thru to hold us up. But the line was still slow and long, and I was not in a patient mood. I stood on my tiptoes and tried to peer inside. The line completely filled the inside of the shop. So I was stuck standing outside in the brisk air.

What a terrific way to start my day: cold, wet, exhausted, and annoyingly distracted.

Days like this made me seriously reevaluate the state of my life. I didn't have a very exciting existence. You could say that I was just your average woman. When I wasn't on a business trip my daily routine consisted of Dunkin Donuts, riding the T to work, sitting at a cubicle all day, riding the T home, cooking dinner, and watching TV until I went to bed. My weekends weren't the most exciting either, and they mostly consisted of my cats, TV, and the occasional coffee date with a friend.

So that was my life, day after day, year after year. Nothing ever changed. I will admit that I was quite bored with my life. I often fantasized about changing it, about doing something more exciting. I didn't want to be an office drone for the rest of my life. I liked the fact that my job allowed me to travel, but traveling on business wasn't really all that much fun. Don't get me wrong, I liked my job, but I wasn't overly excited with it. The job had lost its charm. It was exciting at first, but now I was bored with it. And now here I was, 32, and trapped in the clutches of everyday monotony with no end in sight.

This kind of life was completely out of character for me. I had been a bit of a wild child all through college. I went to a school that had a reputation for partying, and I did exactly what I went there for: partying. Fraternities ruled my nights and weekends during my first two years, and bars and clubs dominated my last two years. However, when I graduated with my business degree, the realities of life set in. I took a job, got my own place, and started paying back my student loans. For a while after college I tried to balance work with partying, but as the years went by my partying became less and less frequent. Now it was almost nonexistent. My life consisted of work, bills, business trips, coffee, and my cats.

I sometimes wished that I had a different life. I wished it was more fun, exciting, and adventurous. I wished that I could get out of the rut of a routine I was stuck in. My wild side was dormant but not dead, and it was dying to be let out again. That morning on November 1st, as I waited in line at Dunkin Donuts, this desire began to consume my thoughts completely. That morning I thought of nothing but the stranger from yesterday and my desire for more adventure in my life.

That's probably how I got myself into this shit in the first place.

I spent the next eight hours in real corporate drudgery. I wasn't directly responsible for hiring anyone, but I was one of the people in charge of sorting through resumes and weeding out all of the candidates that didn't meet the minimum qualifications. So for the next eight hours, I sifted through bad resume after bad resume, tossing out the ones that were blatantly unqualified. In between this, I sat through phone calls from needy employees, and listened to PR periodically whine about stupid shit.

I was jumping for joy by four o'clock, and with my current mood, I was one of the first people out the door. I was free for the weekend, and for the first time since yesterday evening I was in a good mood.

My first task was to pick up my two cats from my best friend Keisha, who had been cat-sitting for the last four days while I was in New Hampshire. Keisha always took care of my cats while I was on a business trip, so she was practically their second owner.

So on my way out of the office I dialed her.

"Hey you," said her boisterous voice over the phone, "I have your kitties."

"Awesome! Thank you so much!" I said. "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Well right now I'm in Copley," she replied.

My heart sank into my stomach.

"C-Copley?" I said, my voice trembling from panic.

"Ya," Keisha answered, clearly not noticing my change in tone. "I figured Copley was certainly closer for your office than my apartment."

I appreciated the thought, but Copley… no… anywhere but Copley.

"And you wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get the kitties in their crates and on the T," Keisha replied. "They're such a pain in the butt."

I felt that sickening sensation from last night again.

"You want me to meet you in Copley?" I asked breathlessly.

"Ya, is that a problem?"

Yes that was a problem! Copley was in the Back Bay!

"Um, kinda," I squeaked.

"After I came all the way over here?" Keisha asked, sounding annoyed. "Come on Em."

No, please, anywhere but the Back Bay. I would have taken the North End, Kenmore, the Common, the bottom of the Charles River… anywhere but the Back Bay!

"Please don't make me go to the Back Bay," I begged my friend.

"Why not?" Keisha asked, genuinely confused. "I'm over here, your cats are here, and I don't want to make them travel on the T any more than they have to."

"You don't understand, Keisha," I replied, "I can't go to the Back Bay."

"Why not?"

I sighed. "There's someone I'm avoiding," I answered. "And he's staying over there."

"Oh come on Em don't be ridiculous," Keisha laughed, "it's one of the busiest parts of the entire city. What are the odds of you running into this person? What's got you so worked up anyway?"

"It's a long story," I replied, "Just please don't make me come over there."

"Too late," said Keisha, "I'm already here because I didn't think it would be a problem. So please just come here, pick up your cats, and if you want to leave right away, you can do that. But I really don't want to get back on the T with these animal crates."

I sighed. This was not happening to me. This could not possibly be happening to me.

This was definitely a testament to how much I loved these animals.

"All right, I'll be right there," I sighed.

"Meet you at 500 Boylston."

My heart dropped again and nearly stopped beating. That was right near his hotel. I wanted to arrange a different pickup location, but decided against it. Keisha had done a lot for me already, and I figured I shouldn't be more annoying than I already was.

I was just going to get there, grab my cats, and get home as fast as humanly possible without being detected.

That was the plan anyway.

I know I looked absolutely ridiculous on the T.

There I was, hiding behind a group of people on the T, hidden beneath my jacket hood. I wore a pair of sunglasses, even in the dark subway tunnel, and people kept giving me weird looks. I'm sure I was attracting more attention this way, but at least my face was hidden. Every time the train stopped and the doors opened, I crouched down low so that I was shorter than everyone else around me. I hoped and prayed that he wouldn't get on this train. Looking back on it, I was being absolutely ridiculous, but at the time I was petrified. I felt that hiding like this was the only thing I could possibly do.

Luckily, the T ride was free of my creeper. However, I was even more nervous walking through the streets, being open and vulnerable and all that. Luckily, I chose to get on a line that dropped me right near 500 Boylston, so I tucked my face inside my hood and practically ran over there.

I was relieved when I saw the towering glass structures, stone columns, and stone beam that read "Five Hundred Boylston". I saw Keisha, dressed in a sage green coat, leggings, and biker boots, standing in the courtyard waiting for me. In her hands she held the crates that contained my two cats. She didn't recognize me until I was practically on top of her.

"Hey Em," she said, looking me up and down quizzically, "whatcha doin?"

"Oh nothing," I lied, "just walking."

"Uh huh," Keisha replied, raising a black eyebrow at me. The expression on her chocolate face told me that she didn't buy it.

"I feel like I'm in some sort of drug deal," she laughed, "here's the goods, now where's the money?"

"Very funny Keisha," I replied irritably.

"Jeez, what's the matter today?" she asked, rolling her brown eyes.

"Nothing, it's just…" I stammered, "…thanks for watching the cats."

"Not a problem I loved having them," Keisha said with a beaming smile, "Caesar was being a cuddlebug the whole time."

"How did the little missy hold up?" I asked.

"Oh Lady L," she laughed, poking my female cat's crate, "she chewed a couple things up, killed a mouse and left it in my sink, and scratched me something good." I cringed when she showed me five claw marks on her hand. "But other than that she was a sweetie."

Keisha was laughing and thoroughly enjoying herself, and meanwhile I kept looking around and over my shoulder like a panicked lunatic. Keisha unfortunately noticed.

"Hey hon, you want to meet up later and talk about what's wrong?" she offered. "I'm concerned for you."

"That would actually be spectacular," I replied, looking everywhere else but at her.

"I'll call you later," Keisha replied. "We'll meet on your end, how's that?"

"Thanks Keish," I said with a smile, "love ya."

"Mmmm hmmm," she said with a grin. She waved at the animals and said "bye guys. You be good for Em."

I was so thankful when I was finally able to get moving again. I was so close to the T stop that would take me home. If I could just get to it and get on the T without being detected, I would be all set. Hugging my animals close and tightening my hood, I hoofed it back to the T.

Unfortunately heading toward the Copley stop meant heading toward his hotel.

And with my stupid ass luck, he was heading down Boylston St in the opposite direction of me.

I saw that confident strut and menacing silhouette and immediately knew it was him. He had on the same clothes as yesterday, except this time his coat was buttoned and his scarf was tied to shield him against the cold wind that whipped between the buildings. I put my head down, hoping that my hood would shield my face from him. We were going to walk right by each other. I prayed that he wouldn't recognize me. All I wanted was to get my cats and I home without incident.

I veered over to the far right edge of the sidewalk until I was practically brushing the parked cars. Boylston St. was super crowded as usual, so there were a number of rows of people between his side of the street and mine. I hoped that I would just blend in with the crowd. I tried my best to blend, to escape his notice, to hide my face.

I avoided looking at him as we finally passed each other. I was too nervous to even look at him from the corner of my eye. I tucked my head as low as I could and walked as fast as I could. My heart stopped during the few seconds it took for us to pass each other, but once we did, it resumed beating again. I hoped that I had avoided him successfully.

All I needed was to get on that train and get the hell out of the Back Bay as fast as I could.

I ran down the stairs and into the subway tunnel. It was rush hour, so there was a small line forming at the gates. As I was about to run over to get in line, I felt a cold hand grip my shoulder firmly, stopping me in my tracks.

I let out a small yelp and spun around. To my horror, the first thing I saw when I turned around were two brilliant emerald eyes looking down at me. His piercing gaze seemed to cut through me, and it was all I could do to keep from fainting.

The man's eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into his trademark smirk. In my horror I almost dropped my cats.

"Well then," he said, his voice seeping with malicious amusement. "Look who's wandered her way back to me…"


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

I was devastated. I wanted nothing more than to break down and cry. I was normally a stronger person than this, but he had me completely unglued.

I tried to shrug off his hand. I didn't like him touching me. I tried to break free, but he held me fast.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his voice sounding almost threatening.

"Did you follow me down here?" I snapped.

The man chuckled and gave me a wide, almost sinister smile.

"Did I not promise you that we would see each other again?" he replied.

"I was kind of hoping we wouldn't," I said, "now if you'll excuse me-"

"Stay a moment," he interrupted.

"I can't," I said, "I have to go."

Almost on command, my male cat let out a howl, and my female cat started clawing at the inside of her crate. My creeper loosened his grip for a moment out of surprise, and I used the opportunity to pry myself loose from his grasp. Before he could fully react, I was already walking away.

"Sorry gotta go," I called as I walked away, "live animals, gotta get them home. Bye!"

The man didn't say anything in response. He made no attempts to follow or stop me, but instead watched as I passed through the gate. I lost sight of him once I got onto the platform. The entire time I waited for my train, I kept looking around for any sign of him, and to my relief he didn't follow me.

I was seriously concerned as to why.

The rest of the afternoon went without incident. I returned the cats home safely, and Caesar immediately went to sleep while my female cat hissed and hid under the couch.

It was just past sunset when Keisha stopped by my apartment.

"Hey love," she said, hanging her coat on one of the pegs by the door and kicking off her boots.

Immediately upon hearing Keisha's voice, my male cat woke up, leapt off the windowsill, and rubbed his body against her affectionately.

I proceeded to make us coffee while Keisha sat on the couch petting Caesar. Our conversation started off innocently enough, but the subject soon turned to the creeper I met on the T.

"You didn't even ask for his name?" asked Keisha.

"Amazingly, no," I replied, pouring the coffee into mugs. "He had me so wound up and distracted that I forgot to ask."

"And he didn't introduce himself?"

"Nope," I responded. I carried the mugs into the living room and sat down on the couch next to her. My lady cat let out a low hiss of disapproval.

"And yet you spilled shit about yourself," Keisha said with an eye roll, "what did you tell him?"

"Honestly, I don't remember all that much," I said, "it's all kind of a confused blur for some reason. I think I told him that I lived alone and that I'm from Boston. Looking back on it, he seemed quite interested that I'm a Boston native."

"We-ird," Keisha said mid-sip.

"Honestly, it was the weirdest thing I've ever been through," I continued, "and the worst part is, I ran into him _again_ on my way home from Copley."

"Nuh uh!" Keisha replied. "You're shitting me."

"Nope," I answered, "he followed me into the subway tunnel. If it weren't for my cats, I wouldn't have gotten home anytime soon."

"He didn't follow you home did he?"

"No," I replied, "I made sure of that."

"Did he see what train you got on?" asked Keisha.

I paused. I didn't think about that.

"I don't know," I answered, "and besides, even if he did, all he would know is what line I live on."

"That's still something, though," Keisha said. A look of genuine concern crossed her face.

"Come on, Keish," I said, trying to reassure myself more than her, "there are a lot of stops on this line. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack to find the exact apartment where I lived."

"But still, hon," she replied, "I'm worried about you now."

I smiled at my friend. "Thanks Keisha," I said, "I'll be all right. I just have to stay out of the Back Bay!"

"You said it, sistah!"

There was no more mention of the strange guy for the rest of her visit. Soon our conversation turned to other lighthearted subjects, like my cats, Keisha's job, and eventually, partying.

"When's the last time we've been out for a drink?" Keisha asked.

"Too fucking long!" I exclaimed.

"Seriously, though," she said, "work has been ridiculous lately, and it sounds like you've had a mess of a week too,"

"Absolutely," I said, "the trip was fun and all, but New Hampshire gets old after a while. It's nothing but trees. I like trees, but I'm glad to be back in the city where there are people, not moose."

Keisha laughed and placed her empty mug on the coffee table. Caesar, who was curled in a ball on Keisha's lap, mewled in his sleep.

"After that shitshow on the T yesterday and again today," I said, "I need a fucking drink. Tonight."

"Mmm hmm, girl you read my mind," Keisha said with a broad smile. "Where shall we go?"

"There's that club a couple T stops away," I said. "We've never been there."

"Aw hon I ain't dressed for a club!" Keisha replied, folding her arms in disapproval.

"Come on Keish," I said, "I really need a little fun tonight after the shit I've been through this week. This would be a perfect fix for everything!"

"Oh fine," she said, "but I'm borrowing your clothes, cause there ain't no way in hell I'm going to a club dressed like a damn slob." She gestured to her outfit, which consisted of an oversized T-shirt and a pair of black leggings.

"Deal," I said. We leapt off the couch, and like two giddy college girls, we started to get ready to go.

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. Or, at least I think it was, because there's no way what happened at the club actually happened in real life. It was impossible.

The evening started off normal. We waited for ages to get in, and once we were finally through the door, the party was already in full swing. The air was hot and moist, and the rooms were dimly lit with the faint glow of neon, black lights, and strobes. The bass from the electronic music filled my ears, drowning out the sounds of the shouting around me. The bass vibrated through my body, blocking out all feeling and drowning my senses. My vision tunneled and my ears surrendered to the overpowering sound. My heart quickened with excitement. I had sorely missed this.

Keisha and I were dressed to attract attention. She had on a black, sequined, oversized shirt and her leggings, and I was wearing a red strapless top, jeans, and heels. I looked lazily at the scene around me as Keisha and I waited to order drinks. It was hard to make out anything in particular. I mostly saw bare limbs entangled and swaying to the beat of the song, lots of dark clothing, and occasionally a bouncer wandering about.

Eventually, Keisha and I got separated in the shuffle at the bar. I somehow was pushed much further ahead and away from her. We kept each other within sight as best we could. However, the further we drifted apart, the more I began to grow concerned. When it was finally my turn at the bar, I could barely see the black bun of her hair above the crowd.

"A Long Island please," I shouted to the bartender.

"Make that two," a smooth, male voice said behind me, "on my tab."

That voice sounded eerily familiar.

I looked over my shoulder, and to my horror, I saw the man from the T. I barely recognized him without his coat and scarf. He was no longer wearing his suit jacket or tie, and instead wore just a white collared shirt. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons undone to keep him cool. His black hair was slightly disheveled, and it somehow made him even more attractive. I had no idea he was here. I hadn't even seen him when we walked in. Then again, it would have been very easy to miss him in the crowd and the dim lighting. I don't know how he managed to spot me, let alone push through the crowd to sneak up behind me. Nevertheless there I was, trapped with him once again, with my friend barely in sight.

I turned to tell the bartender to cancel the drink order, but it was too late. She was already mixing the drinks, and his tab must have already been billed. I turned back around to see my creeper grinning slyly at me. He leaned forward and whispered into my ear, and somehow despite the deafening noise I could hear him clearly.

"Found you."

The bartender returned with our drinks, and he took the liberty of handing me mine.

"Come," he said, placing his free hand on the small of my back and giving me a gentle nudge.

I looked back desperately at my friend, who was still waiting in line. I didn't want to leave her. I was not going to leave her.

"Don't worry," he said as if reading my mind, "if she means that much to you, I will make sure no harm comes to her. She won't even notice your absence."

His tone sounded almost sincere, but how could what he was saying be possible? Of course she would notice me gone!

I was powerless to stop him from ushering me away from the bar. He kept his hand gently placed on the small of my back as he led me to the far end of the club, over a small set of stairs, and over to the VIP lounge. It was considerably less crowded here, and most of the VIP patrons had wandered elsewhere. His free hand left the small of my back and wrapped gently around my free hand. His hands were surprisingly cool, and while his long fingers held mine gently, I could tell that they contained much more strength than he was showing.

Guiding me by the hand, he sat us down on one of the burgundy leather booths. My mind was screaming to run away, grab Keisha, and get out of here, but my body would not obey its commands. I looked into those deep green eyes, almost glowing in the neon lights, and was spellbound. He had me exactly where he wanted me, and I could do nothing but sit there and let whatever was about to happen, happen.

We sat there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, saying nothing, and ignoring the drinks in our hands. The noise of the club seemed to fade, and my worries over Keisha seemed to fade too. My focus was solely on him and all his subtleties: the way his eyes flickered, the way his mouth twitched and curled in his smirk, and the small, unconscious movements of his fingers.

My brain was still in a fog, and I tried to say one of the million questions that were burning in my mind. The stranger chuckled as if knowing what was raging in my head.

"Go ahead," he said, "tell me what you want to know, and I will free your mind from this burden of curiosity."

I let in a shaky breath, swallowed hard, and finally managed to whisper "who are you?"

He flashed me a smile. "Still haven't realized?" He laughed. "I love how I don't have to hide in this city, from these people, from you, and yet I can still remain invisible."

He read my look of incomprehension and stopped dancing around the subject. "I am Loki," he continued, "you may have heard of me."

"From Norse mythology?" I asked dumbly.

He laughed. "There too," he said, "but think, love, you sure you haven't heard that name elsewhere, perhaps recently?"

I searched my memories. He was right. I had heard that name recently, and not in the context of Norse mythology. From the news maybe? I couldn't think of where in the news I would have heard that name, but it did sound like a familiar context. I couldn't pinpoint exactly where I had heard it, so I shook my head. He smiled again with delight and leaned his back against the leather. He sat there as if he were on a throne, and continued to gaze at me.

"Perfectly clueless," he mused, "I like this."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. I did not like the lecherous look he was giving me, with his eyes glinting and his smirking lips parted ever so slightly. I could tell he was undressing me with his eyes, and it made my heart wrench with both resentment and a strange, dark desire.

"What do you want from me?" I finally asked, the discomfort bringing me somewhat to my senses. "Why are you here?"

"For the same reason you are," Loki replied. He leaned closer to me and dropped his voice lower. "There are things that I want from you," he whispered, "things that you are perfectly suited to give me." He paused, looking me up and down. "But for now," he continued, looking into my eyes, "all I want is a drink with you."

He brought his glass to his lips. His movements were hypnotic. Almost obediently, I sipped my drink as well. My head was screaming to stop, to remain sober, but my body wouldn't listen to me. He wanted a drink with me, and my heart wanted nothing more than to give him what he wanted. I sipped my drink, perhaps a little too fast. Okay, I drank way too fast. I was nervous, and as a result I finished my drink long before he finished his.

He eventually turned his gaze to the crowd in the main part of the club.

"Look at them," Loki said with a sneer, "like moths to a flame."

I followed his gaze to see for myself what he was talking about. From this vantage point I could see people gathering in droves around the bar, all pushing and shoving and fighting each other to get to the front. Even bigger throngs of people were making their way to the dance floor, which was already a dark, swirling, erotic mass of humanity.

"They flock to their own destruction," he continued, "they know not what their actions will do, what wantonness they will undoubtedly unleash, only to regret later. It is a lifestyle that is both praised and scoffed as 'sin'."

"It's an escape," I added in a weak voice.

"Yes," he said, nodding in agreement, "an escape from the harsh realities of their own self-inflicted misery." He turned his gaze back to me. He had a hungry look in his eyes that left me senseless with fear, and… longing? That wasn't possible.

"What else do you want from me?" I asked boldly in response to his look. I placed my empty glass on the table.

He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying my mental torment. He placed his unfinished drink next to mine, never breaking eye contact. "In time," he said, "all will be made clear. But now I ask you, Emily, what do you want from me?"

I was taken aback. "How is this suddenly about me now?" I asked.

He laughed. "Don't play daft," he said playfully, "I can see the longing, the craving, in your eyes." He leaned closer to me, too close for comfort, yet I didn't make any attempts to shrug him off. His hand, which had been resting on the leather seat, slowly inched its way toward me. "Your shifting eyes," he continued, "your ragged breath, your quickening pulse… they all tell me exactly what you want."

"It's not what you think," I replied.

"Oh it's exactly what I think," he said more sharply. It made me cringe. "You think you can hide your desires from me, human? You and your kind make me laugh."

What the hell was he talking about? My head was fuzzy, partially from the rapidly consumed strong drink, and partially from his intoxicating presence.

"Your kind thinks it's intelligent and advanced," he snarled. "The human race thinks it's up to par with the other realms. All fools, the whole lot of you. It makes me sick, and it makes me laugh. You people are nothing but blundering idiots. You're like cattle willing lining up for slaughter. It's pathetic." His last words rang with a high-pitched sharpness that cut through me like a knife, paralyzing me with fear. His head tilted downward and he gave me a look that resembled both insanity and calculated malice. "And here you sit," he hissed, "thinking that you have the capability to deceive me, your king, your god. You and your race are nothing but mindless beasts that think you're above your own animalistic tendencies. But I see the truth. You pretend that you're immune your own desires, yet in some dark recess of your mind you are slowly caving into your yearnings." He gave me a dark smile and I cringed back in fear.

I was either hearing things wrong or this man was definitely insane. Did he just call himself a god? I felt myself unconsciously start to tremble, and I was now genuinely afraid. Without realizing it, I started to inch away from him. He grabbed my wrist and shook his head.

"Stay," Loki commanded, "we're not finished yet." His voice was heavy with regal authority, and it made my limbs shake violently and grow even weaker.

"Leave me alone," I pleaded.

"That's not what you want," he said in a hypnotic tone.

"You don't know what I want," I retaliated. "Please let me go-"

"Oh but I do," he said playfully. "You crave subjugation. It is a simple truth: humanity wants nothing more than to be ruled, and you are no exception." He leaned his body dangerously close to mine, so that our faces were practically touching. "You want me to free you from this burden of power and control," he whispered.

"Please don't," I whimpered, "I- I-" I couldn't find the words to describe what I wanted. He was right about everything. It had been a long time since I had any kind of intimacy, and I missed it. But the fact that he knew that scared me.

"Why pretend that you don't want this?" he asked mockingly. "Are you afraid that I may hurt you? Kill you even?"

"Yes," I breathed.

"Don't be," he said. He grasped both of my hands and pinned them to the seat. "I said to you once that I wasn't going to hurt you, and I won't."

"Why?" I asked. "If you hate humans so much, why not hurt me?"

"Not as fun," he chuckled. A newfound fear surged over me; I wasn't expecting that kind of answer. "The pleasure is brief and fleeting" he went on, "and the gratification does not last. This, however, is much sweeter and more… satisfying." That last word rolled off his tongue as he used his arms and body weight to pin my shoulders against the back of the seat. I was terrified, but somehow I liked being this close to him. He was right. Some dark and depraved corner of my mind was craving him despite all fear and logical reasoning.

My body language must have still been communicating hesitation, because he gave me a sharp look and headshake.

"You still resist me?" he growled erotically. "The allure of rationality deceives you. I can see you warring with your own mind. Let your dark instincts take over, and let me show you what it feels like to be truly free." He touched his forehead against mine, and the tips of our noses brushed against each other. I could feel the pit of my stomach growing hot, and every muscle in my body was growing weak and hot with desire. "You want this," he purred, "but you know you shouldn't. And you're right, you shouldn't. But why does it matter? You are wild on the inside; don't let your own notions of morality tame you. You were made to be ruled, so allow me to free you from this prison of control." He leaned more of his body weight into me, further flattening me against the back of the seat. "Let go; don't hold back from your king," he snarled in a regal and commanding voice that made me shudder. "Let me sample your depravity."

I was powerless to resist him now. I wanted him, and the temptation was too much. I let down all of my barriers, walls, and my whole show of strength and kissed his thin lips. He tasted sweet, and I kissed him hungrily, leaning my face into his.

This seemed to satisfy him, and he pulled away and smiled wickedly. "Much better," he whispered, "my turn."

He kissed me in return, this time more passionately. I melted under him and succumbed to the smoldering desire that was now erupting into flames. With each moment our passion only grew greater. I didn't care who was watching us or what they thought. This was so out of character for me. I never made out with anyone in public, let alone in this kind of setting. But I didn't care anymore, and I felt strangely free, just like he said I would. I had never experienced this kind of freedom before, and I liked every minute of it.

When he judged that I was fully under his control, he let his hands wander. One hand left my wrist and found its way to the side of my waist. The other hand traveled to my leg, and began stroking my inner thigh lustfully. The intimate contact made my head spin, and I intensified my kisses to urge him on. On command, he wrapped his hand around my back and lifted me towards him, so that our chests were flush against each other, with one hand still on my thigh and one arm supporting my back

I slipped my tongue between his slightly parted lips, and I could feel him grin as he reciprocated. My breathing intensified, and my heart raced to the point where I thought it would fly out of my chest. My head buzzed and my vision tunneled, and my breathing was reduced to ragged, irregular pants and gasps. He nipped my bottom lip a few times, which only caused my mind to go even wilder. My world was quickly spinning out of control. I felt powerless to stop it, and I was afraid that I might be swept away in this torrent of passion, never to return. But there I remained, surrendered into his embrace, completely powerless and not caring about it.

He pressed his palm against my back and brought me to my knees, with my legs straddling his lap. It was a very compromising position, and I felt a faint twinge of embarrassment for letting myself get to this point in front of the entire club. However, his fingers trailing delicately down my spine dispelled those thoughts. His other hand left my thigh and traveled to the back of my head. The hair on the back of my head was very short, and he tried to wrap his long fingers around my silken locks, growing frustrated as they kept slipping from his grasp. He grabbed what little hair he could and used it to force my face more toward his, effectively deepening our kiss. I let out a small whimper into his mouth and closed my eyes out of my growing dizziness.

Loki used my vulnerability to his full advantage. His hands moved again, this time to my sides, and his thumbs brushed the sides of my breasts. He was teasing me, and it was driving me nuts. The heat in the pit of my stomach was spreading rapidly. Suddenly, his lips left mine and traveled to my upper neck, just below my jaw, and he kissed it hungrily. I let out a small moan and a sigh, and my arms shook. His mouth trailed further down my neck, his lips and tongue tasting and savoring every subtle curve and crevice. His lips and teeth scraped the space between my neck and collarbone, and it was all I could do to keep from crying out in ecstasy. He let out a malicious chuckle so soft that only I could hear it.

I was still too nervous to let my hands wander, and they had remained rested on his back. Sensing my nervousness, he gently grabbed one of my hands and guided it down his muscled chest, down his stomach, finally laying it to rest on his lap. I could feel his desire for me growing.

"You're trembling," he whispered into my ear. Yep, there was no hiding it; I was scared out of my mind. "Do you fear what I will do to you?" he teased.

"Yes," I gasped.

"Good girl," he said, "you should be afraid." With the last word he pressed my hand more fully against the growing desire between his legs, and bit that tender space between my neck and collarbone.

"Loki…" I gasped. I was completely losing myself. This man, this Loki, whoever he was, had me completely and willingly helpless.

"Yes," his voice rung in a low growl, "say my name."

He squeezed my inner thigh and nipped me again, causing me to gasp his name again.

"Yes," he said, "never forget to whom you belong." He sat up and looked at me, his eyes boring into mine. "You are mine now."

I didn't like the sound of that, but my head was such a confused blur that I was powerless to express it. I whimpered and tried to form any sort of words, but all I could utter was his name again.

"Come now," he said encouragingly, stroking my neck with one long, pale finger. "Tell me what you want."

"I- I want you," I stammered. That was not what I had originally intended to say. Where did that thought even come from? I didn't know this man! Hell, I didn't even know his name until tonight. Up until now I was scared shitless of so much as running into him on the street, and now I was about to jump into bed with him? This was all so crazy. My mind, heart, and body wanted three different things, and it reduced me to a torn, broken, whimpering, and helpless mess.

Loki laughed and took both of my hands in his. He flashed me a greedy smirk and kissed my fingers.

"My my," he said, "you certainly are a depraved and desperate creature inside, aren't you? I like it." He smiled hungrily, and the tip of his tongue trailed his upper lip. I thought I was going to lose what was left of my mind.

"What will you do to me?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Impatient, are we?" he mocked. "That's just it, love, you're going to have to wait to find out."

My mind went blank. "What?" I gasped breathlessly.

"You think I'm going to gratify you now?" he hummed, his lips curling into a sadistic grin. "This is the fun part. Now that I have you exactly where I want you, I'm going to make you wait for it. I will let you go, and you will run away and back to your old life. You will at first pretend to be relieved, and believe that you have escaped me. But soon those dark desires will come back to haunt you. You will hunger and long for me, and you will try to deny it and fail miserably. You will dream of me and of what I can do to you, for only I can sate your lust now. You will pretend to be strong, and you will try to suppress your urges. But it will not last, and when your desire becomes too much to bear, you will willingly come crawling back to me. I will be waiting for you, and I will then relieve you of your torment like the merciful god that I am. I will break your walls, and I will have you kneeling at my feet like the helpless quim you are. Then, my pet, you will truly be mine, and I will take from you everything that I want."

He gave me a peck on the lips again, and laughed maliciously at my whimpers of frustration. In a way I was glad that this hadn't progressed further, but at the same time, I was hot and bothered to the point of torture.

I put on my best strong face, and as boldly as I could muster, said, "I am not going to play some stupid game of cat and mouse with you."

He laughed and took my face in his hands. This wasn't erotic anymore. I wanted to get out of here. "You will have no choice," he mocked.

"And what if I don't play along?" I asked. "Are you going to force me?"

"Again, not as fun," he replied, "believe me, I will get what I want, and you will give it willingly."

"And how can you be so sure that I'll come looking for you?" I retaliated.

He chuckled. "Because you belong to me now," Loki replied.

I didn't like the sound of that. My pulse quickened out of fear.

"Run now, little mouse," he said, brushing me away with a graceful sweep of his hands. "And let the chase begin."


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

He didn't have to tell me twice.

I leapt off the seat and ran back to the main part of the club, searching desperately for Keisha so we could get the hell out of here. After a few minutes of desperate searching, I caught sight of the black bun of her hair bobbing amongst the crowd on the dance floor. She was laughing and talking with a woman next to her. I was taken aback when I recognized my hair color, my haircut, and even my same clothes.

Was this some sort of body double?

I thought that it must be the alcohol taking its toll on me. Or perhaps Loki had slipped something in my drink that was now making me hallucinate. There didn't seem to be any other explanation because clearly my friend was having the time of her life with someone that looked just like me, yet at the same time wasn't me.

I rudely shoved my way through the crowd over to my friend. Keisha and my body double both had their backs to me. Now that I was closer, I could clearly see that this woman looked just like me in every way, and it was almost sickening. I went to tap the woman on the shoulder, to demand to know just who she was and what she thought she was doing with my friend. The second my hand made contact with her shoulder, she vanished in a swirl of green light. I gasped and felt like vomiting. I was definitely hallucinating. That bastard must have definitely drugged me. Keisha had her back turned to me and of course didn't see it, and no one else in the club seemed to notice either.

I needed to get out of here and fast.

Keisha turned back around with a beaming smile. She didn't seem to notice that anything was different.

"Dahmn girl, you're right," she said, "he is sexy. And look, they're playing that song you requested!"

She was talking to me as if we had been together all night. I felt like I just intruded on a conversation that I had been apart of yet didn't know anything about. Keisha saw the look on my face and her smile vanished.

"What's wrong?" She immediately asked.

"I feel sick," I murmured. It wasn't a lie. I felt like I was going to either pass out or vomit, or both.

"You were just fine a second ago," she said, placing her hands on my shoulders.

"We need to go," I said, "we need to go right now."

"All right, let's go," she said without a moment's hesitation.

The events after that passed in a complete blur. Even if I wasn't really drugged, I certainly felt like it. My head spun, and my vision was clouded and blurred. Keisha had to guide me home because I couldn't see, hear, nor really comprehend anything. Eventually Keisha got me settled into my apartment and went home.

What few memories I had of the rest of the night were a confused mess of a nightmare. The hot feeling in the pit of my stomach turned into a sickening nausea, and I was sick several times during the night. When I wasn't vomiting, I was dozing in a restless half-sleep that was plagued by fragments of the memories of what had just transpired a few hours earlier. Loki's face, his smirk, and his eyes, glinting with insanity, haunted my dreams. I could still taste him, and I felt the remnants of his hands everywhere he had touched me. These areas seemed to burn, and every time I reveled in the almost delightful pain, I remembered that evil smirk.

"_You will dream of me."_

His words haunted me, yet for some stupid reason, I longingly clung to the memory of his voice.

_Is this what it feels like to go insane?_ I kept thinking this to myself the longer I dwelled on his memory.

Sometime in the early morning hours, just before dawn, his memory relinquished its hold on me long enough to give me a few hours of numb sleep.

I didn't have a hangover when I woke up because I had only had one drink, but I was still so shaken up by the events of the night before that I still felt nauseous.

Black coffee, mindless TV, and crackers helped settle my stomach and my nerves. I spent the entire morning in a mind fog, and I questioned which events from the night before were real and which were fabrications of my own insane mind. As the morning drew on, I came to the decision that the whole encounter with Loki must have been imagined. My mind warred with itself, and it didn't help that I was without human company. The Lady cat was still hiding under the couch, but Caesar curled up next to me and purred out of concern and sympathy. His company helped at least a little.

This is how my entire morning passed, and I remained like this until the early afternoon. Sometime around 1, I was feeling decent enough to get up and get dressed.

As I took off my pajama shirt, I glanced at my shirtless form in the mirror above my dresser. It was the first time since before I went to the bar that I had looked at myself in the mirror. I gasped and tasted bile in the back of my throat when I saw a discoloration at the base of my neck. I ran over to the mirror to fully inspect it. On the tender skin between my neck and collarbone was a bruise and the distinct markings of teeth.

It was the same spot where Loki had nipped me the night before.

It had been sexy at the time, but now I was paying the price. It was almost like he had marked me as his.

"_You belong to me now."_

I guess the events of the night before weren't imagined at all. They were, in fact, extremely real.

Suppressing the urge to vomit again, I quickly finished getting dressed, taking care to pick a shirt whose collar hid the bruise.

Just who the hell _was_ this creep anyway?

"_You sure you haven't heard my name elsewhere, perhaps recently?"_

I rushed back into the kitchen, threw open the laptop sitting on table, and began to search the Internet. I needed answers. I needed to know who he was and what he was supposedly known for. A simple Internet search gave me all of the answers I was looking for, and they certainly weren't what I was expecting.

After a Wikipedia page about Loki, the Norse God of Mischief, I saw several archived news articles about him, and every single one of them revolved around the events in New York with the aliens and the Avengers.

Shit, that's where I had heard that name before.

The more articles I read, the more the memories came flooding back to me.

Loki was the mastermind behind the attempted alien invasion, and the Avengers had fought off him and his army. My stomach churned the more I read about his war crimes. He killed eighty people in the first two days he was on earth, and he was directly responsible for the deaths of so many more in the battle of New York. The estimated death tolls from the incident… the numbers made me sick. What made me sicker is that I had just willingly kissed the man who was responsible for every single one of them.

I kept reading. Apparently Loki was the brother of Thor, the God of Thunder. The article said that Thor was raised to superhero status after the events in New York. It went on to describe his background, saying that he was a demigod from another planet called Asgard, and that his brother Loki was also a demigod from the same planet.

So this guy was an alien too. Fantastic.

What worried me was the ending of one article that I read about the aftermath of the battle. According to this source, Thor apparently took Loki with him back to Asgard, so that he may face justice for his crimes.

Wait a minute. If Loki was supposedly taken back to Asgard, then what the hell had just happened last night? The bruise on my neck told me that he was very real. He certainly wasn't on Asgard like everyone seemed to think. He was right here in Boston. What the hell was he doing here on Earth?

And what the hell could someone with this much power want with a boring human like me?

I closed my laptop. I had had enough. I found out everything I wanted now, and I regretted it. It made my actions last night all the more horrifying.

I decided that I needed some air. The sun was shining brilliantly in my living room windows and it called to me. I decided to go for a walk to get the shitshow from last night off my mind.

"_You will at first pretend to be relieved, and believe that you have escaped me."_

I decided that I wasn't going to let him have his way with me. He lad let me go, and I was determined for that to be the last time we ever saw each other again. He made it clear that he expected me to come back to him, but I had other plans. If he expected me to come crawling back to him, he was going to have to wait an awfully long time.

On that note, I abruptly put on my coat and shoes and strutted proudly out the door.

That little shithead was not going to have his way with me.

I got on the T and eventually wandered my way over to Chestnut Hill. I ended up taking a nice long walk in the area around the reservoir. It was refreshing to feel the snappy, cool breeze on my face. The reservoir was a long way from the Back Bay, and I had to hop around the T and change lines to get there. It was sufficiently far enough away from Loki for comfort, and for the first time in two days, my mind was at ease. Traveling out here was completely worth it because this walk was everything I needed.

I strolled past joggers and people walking their dogs. They were obviously all here for the same reason I was. The air was cool, but it was not biting cold like yesterday, and it was mild and refreshing. The brilliant sunshine caressed my skin, and I soaked it up gladly. My aimless strolling helped me forget about the events of the night before and all the shit I had read earlier. When the sun started to dip beneath the top of the buildings, I decided to get back on the T and head home. By the time my walk was over, I had completely forgotten about Loki and everything to do with him.

When I got home I set myself to the mundane task of feeding my cats and I. At the sound of the cat food bag, Lady screeched and came bolting into the kitchen like a bandit on the run. She grabbed her food dish and dragged it back under the couch, leaving a trail of cat kibbles behind. Caesar was the more civilized one, and once Lady had torn her way out of the kitchen, he nestled himself in front of his food dish and calmly ate.

After the cats were fed, I prepared a meal for myself. My fridge and pantry were sparsely stocked because, let's face it, I only ever cooked for myself. Cooking for one never required many groceries, so my fridge was just a step above a broke college bachelor's fridge. I never cooked elaborate meals for myself because, let's face it, who was I going to impress with my cooking? Tonight's meal consisted of broccoli, rice, and chicken, all cooked in the same fry pan. I had become an expert at one-pot cooking out of my laziness and lack of a dishwasher.

As I shifted around the contents of the pan, my mind drifted into that state of restlessness again. Despite the fact that I was overjoyed to be back in my apartment and back to normal, I felt that nagging dissatisfaction with the state of my life again. No matter how much I boasted about how I loved my independence and that I was a free bitch who did whatever the hell she wanted, the fact remained that I was alone. Every day when I came home from work I was reminded of the dismal reality that I lived alone. My cats were hardly adequate substitutes for human companionship. My loneliness wasn't just from a lack of romance. I had no consistent family, and I had only Keisha left as a friend. Everyone else I was friends with through high school and college had faded away, and we had lost touch so long ago that rekindling any friendships was impossible. Keisha was a nice friend and all, but she was hardly consistent. She didn't provide the true, close companionship that was missing in my life. In that respect I was truly, completely, alone.

I plated my dinner and sat down at the kitchen table. I aimlessly browsed the Internet while I ate, letting my mind be absorbed into the nothingness of the Internet. So there I sat, alone with my laptop, eating my own home-cooked dinner, alone. There was no lively dinner conversation. There was no sharing of the day's events with anyone. Hell, I didn't think I uttered a single word to anyone except the cats all day.

I was definitely used to this existence. Most days I only interacted with my co-workers and my cats, and on more than one occasion I found myself longing for more meaningful companionship. But such was the state of things, and no matter how much I tried to force things to change and to force relationships that were doomed to fail, in the end, I was always alone. And it seemed alone was what I would indefinitely remain.

My mind wandered its way into the painful memories that supported this conclusion. There were memories of my childhood. I was given up for adoption by the biological mother I never knew, and I was long forgotten by the biological father I never met. I remembered spending my entire childhood and adolescence being transferred from one foster home to another, never developing any lasting relationships with any of my caretakers. I call them caretakers because they weren't really family to me. No one ever offered to adopt me, even though I spent my entire childhood praying that someone would. I prayed that someone would adopt me as their own, and call me their daughter, and that I would finally have a consistent home and a family that I could love. But as the years wore on, my frustrations and resentment only grew greater. I became a wild and unruly child, which didn't help my adoption cause. I became known as that wild kid who needed to be further disciplined. No one ever offered to get to know me or to understand why I was the way that I was. Instead I was only transferred out of foster homes when they grew tired of me.

When it became clear that adoption wasn't going to happen, I set about making my own life for myself. By late high school, I concentrated on getting into college so that I could gain my independence. I was going to show everyone that I didn't need a family, and that I was capable of taking care of myself. I did prove this to myself, but unfortunately by the time it happened no one was left around to care. But I continued my quest through college for my own sake. I had my friends in college, but I never developed any lasting bonds with them. Bonding with people wasn't something I was used to, so I didn't do it, and as a result, the friendships vanished upon graduation.

There was one bond from college that I attempted to keep. I graduated with a boyfriend, and we had been dating pretty consistently for a couple of years. Looking back on it, the relationship was shallow, but at the time I was head over heels in love with him because for the first time in my life, someone had stuck by me. He proposed to me at graduation, and for the next six months I was the happiest woman on earth. I had thought, finally, I had found a true, lasting companion, and I thought I knew what it felt like to be truly loved. For six months I planned our wedding while I worked at my brand new job, and we lived in a beautiful apartment together in a suburb of Boston. It was the most blissful six months of my life. I don't think there has ever been a time in my life that I was that happy.

Then one day it all came crashing down. I caught him in bed, our bed, with another woman. I had never sunk as low as I sunk in that moment. All of the heartbreak, the anger, and the betrayal swept me away in a torrent of emotion that I never want to experience again. What started off as tears turned into angry, violent rampages, and those soon turned into a deep resentment and depression. His half-assed apologies weren't enough to repair the damage he had caused, and so I ended our relationship immediately. I turned my back on him without even saying goodbye. I was the one to pack up and move out. With the help of some friends I was packed up and gone within twenty-four hours of the breakup.

My bliss was over, and I was reminded again of the harsh reality that I was alone, and that apparently I was destined to be alone. In the months that followed I drank heavily. I partied constantly; I was like a wild animal. Over the months I had several one-night stands. These were all stupid choices, but at the time they were exactly what I needed go get over the heartbreak and the betrayal. I also severed my ties with everyone and everything that reminded me of him, and that unfortunately included all of our mutual friends. Those friends that I had left drifted away from me as they got their own lives, found their own spouses, and eventually started having children. This left me hopelessly and helplessly alone, and alone I have remained ever since.

To help me cope, I decided to move back to Boston. The city had always been my home, and it was always a source of comfort for me. I love my city dearly, more than I have ever loved any human being. I never dated anyone again. I occasionally went out on a date with someone, but I never dedicated myself to any kind of relationship. It has been almost ten years since I caught my ex cheating, and I guess I still hadn't gotten over it. At this point in my life, all these years later, I decided that I was better off alone. I liked being single. I liked the freedom it carried. I liked not being tied down to anyone. I liked being able to do what I wanted when I wanted. I never had to ask permission to do anything, and I was free to live my life the way I wanted without anyone there to drag me down and hold me back. Overall, I liked being alone.

But it was moments like this, especially around dinnertime, when I missed having a companion.

Caesar brushing up against my leg snapped me out of it. I shook my head. Memories were just that, memories. I had promised myself long ago that I would not let them have power over me, and I was dedicated to keeping that promise. I did what I wanted, and I was not going to let anything, least of all stupid useless memories, stop me.

Suddenly, Loki's words crept their way back into my mind.

"_You are wild on the inside."_

I groaned in frustration. I had successfully forgotten about him, and I was annoyed that my own stupid mind was reminding me of him again.

In some strange way, he was right. I was wild on the inside. I would be the first one to tell you this. That's why the monotony of my life was so unsettling to me. It was so out of character.

But Loki, he understood perfectly. He had me figured out completely. He was frightening, but still strangely sexy in a dark way. His dark smile had me captivated, and I was drawn into his allure. I closed my eyes and remembered his face. His expressions were so mischievous and menacing. I guess that's why he's called the God of Mischief. My wild side was drawn to him. He was right, and there was no denying it. Some dark part of my mind wanted to run wild with him. It wanted to abandon all notions of logic and reason and give into whatever sinful, lustful, and depraved desires my untamable side could conceive.

"_But soon those dark desires will come back to haunt you."_

And they certainly were. I was growing hot and moist from arousal just thinking about it, thinking about him, and about all of the dark desires he was awakening in me.

Shit. Everything he had said was starting to come true.

I shook my head and jumped out of my chair, causing Caesar to dart away in surprise. I was not going to give in to this little shit. He was not going to have his way with me. I was not his plaything, and I was going to prove that I was better than that. I was independent, and I was not going to be subjugated to his twisted plans.

I was not going to submit to him.

Because I was just too damn wild.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

"Emily, PR's on line 1 for you," the HR secretary announced through my phone's speaker.

I groaned and nearly collapsed on my desk. It was only 10 am, and I was already exhausted and ready to go home.

It was a week to the day since I first met Loki on the T, making it six days since that incident at the club. Despite my determination not to submit to him, the sad truth was that he was constantly on my mind, and it was taking its toll on everything. I dreamt about him all night, then thought about him all day at work, and even when I got home, he was still on my mind. TV wasn't helping. Keeping myself busy as work wasn't helping. Not even talking to Keisha on the phone was doing anything. All week I had been trying everything I could to get my mind off of him, and no matter what I tried, nothing worked.

Yet another thing that prick said was coming true.

Today was no exception, and it didn't help that everyone in the PR department was being an excessively needy pain in the ass.

"Thanks Vanessa," I replied into my phone's speaker. I picked up the phone, dialed line one, and prepared for the inane dribble that was inevitably to follow.

"Oh good, Em, I have another question for you," the woman on the other end of the line said as soon as I picked up.

"Bea, need I remind you that I'm not in the PR department?" I replied. "Aren't these questions better suited for Nancy?"

"Nancy's out sick with pneumonia," said Bea, "and we need your input because you were at the last job fair. Company image and all that stuff. But anyways, I do have a very important question for you…"

I spent the entire conversation rolling my eyes and stating what I thought were obvious facts. Today I was beginning to feel more like a PR rep than an HR rep. In fact, thinking back on it, I didn't end up doing a single HR thing all day. Instead, I got to deal with PR and their incompetence. And to top things off, they seemed more on edge than usual. They were frantic and were being slightly rude and obnoxious about it.

I found out why when my boss, Jim, called me into his office sometime around 2 pm.

"Emily, come in, please, sit down," Jim said upon my entrance, gesturing graciously at one of the hard-backed chairs in front of his desk. He was in a jubilant mood, and it contrasted sharply with the frantic, stressful mood of the PR department.

"Jim, what's going on today?" I asked point-blank as I sat down. There was no dancing around the subject. He was in a much better mood than he ever was, PR was in a panic, and I had been swamped all day. There had to be a connection between all of this, and I figured it had something to do with the reason I was sitting here in his office.

"I have some very exciting news!" he said, practically dancing behind his desk. "The annual East Coast Energy Fair is coming to Boston, and it's happening next weekend!"

I raised an eyebrow. This was definitely not the news I was expecting. It was so… random.

"That's good," I said, putting on my best (forced) enthusiastic.

"I know!" He said, practically leaping into the air as he continued to pace behind his desk. "This is going to be such a great opportunity for us! Ooooh I can just see it now, how much this firm is gonna grow if we pull this off!"

"Excuse me, sir," I said, no longer able to pretend that I knew what the hell he was excited about. "But we're a financial consulting firm. What does an energy fair have to do with us?"

"I was hoping you'd ask that," he said, finally taking a seat at his desk chair. "It actually has everything to do with us. You see, this is _the_ energy fair of the year. Every energy company on the east coast, every major name in energy, will be represented, right here in Boston." He saw my confused look and decided to finally clarify. "It is an opportunity for the public to see all of the major names in energy all in one place. The place will be crawling with big investors… investors that will need investment counseling."

"Ah," I said, "so that's where we come in."

"Bingo!" He said, pumping his fist into the air. "When I saw this opportunity, I took it, and I booked us a table at the event."

"That's great!" I said, trying to act enthusiastic, even though I was still thoroughly confused. I understood now why he cared so much about the fair, but I was struggling to see why this would matter to me. Were we hiring people from the fair?

"The trouble is," my boss continued, "we won't be the only financial consulting firm there. There are three other investment firms that are going to be represented. We are going to need really good PR on this one."

Ah, hence why PR was in such a frantic panic.

"So I have PR working overtime," Jim went on. "We will have a lot of competition. We need a team that is going to sell our message and sell it well."

Sir," I interjected, unable to contain myself. I was tired, mentally drained, and I didn't have a lot of patience at this point. "This is great news and all, but why tell me this?"

"Because we're going to need you on this one too," he said with a beaming smile.

"But isn't this PR's job?" I protested. "PR has been on the phone with me all day, and I'm not even in their department. Unless I'm charged with recruiting new hires, I really don't see what any of this has to do with me."

"Yes it is PR's job," Jim replied, "and PR will of course be there, along with a number of our best financial consultants. But with our PR director on bed rest, we're at a distinct disadvantage."

"Then the other PR reps will have to take up the slack," I responded, "honestly, sir, I really don't see what this has to do with me. I'm HR, not PR."

"But we need someone who can sell," he replied, "you bring in hundreds of resumes every time we have one open position. You sell our company's message so well that we never have any shortage of highly qualified applicants." He paused and beamed at me. "You have charisma, Emily," he continued, "more charisma than most of the people in the PR department. We need you there to draw people in, to get them interested, and to get them excited. You can do all of these things like you were born to do it. Once you've drawn them in, you can refer them to the rest of the team who will complete the contracts."

"You can't be serious," I said, "I'm honored, but I'm not qualified for this."

"I think you'll do just fine," Jim said with a smile, "I have full faith in you. Emily, this is a huge opportunity for our company. We could expand and grow wildly if this is a success, so this fair is of the utmost importance. Besides, you're in line for a promotion. If this goes well, you may just be put at the front of the line."

My jaw dropped.

"So," my boss continued, "will you go?"

"Well," I replied, "if you put it that way, then I guess so."

"Excellent!" my boss exclaimed, jumping out his chair like a sugar-high kid. "I'll get you in touch with Bea again and she'll train you on the basics of everything you'll need to know. We've got a busy week ahead of us!"

Oh joy, just what I always wanted.

"Heyyy Em, it's me," Keisha exclaimed over the phone, "I was just calling to say hi and see how you were doing and if you were feeling better. I don't know what's wrong, but I'm here for ya girl. Call me back, kay? Love ya! Muah!"

I hung up the phone as soon as Keisha's voicemail was finished. I was in no mood to call her back. I hadn't exactly told her what happened at the club a week ago, and I was in no mood to tell her now. I tossed my phone onto my nightstand and clasped my hands behind my head. I lay on my bed on my back and stared at the ceiling. It was only nine o'clock, and I was already tired and ready to go to bed.

The rest of my workday had dragged. I had spent the remainder of the afternoon on the phone with PR, all the while battling thoughts of Loki creeping into my mind. It was an incredible struggle to remain focused and do my job, and the effort had left me mentally and physically exhausted. The thoughts of Loki did not go away once I left work, and they followed me all the way home. When I got home, I'm pretty sure I fed the cats more than I fed myself. I didn't have the energy to cook, so I just ate a granola bar and called it dinner. I tried everything I could think of to get Loki off my mind. I read for a while, to no avail. I tried watching the Bruins game, and it only worked for about five minutes. No matter how much I tried to focus on the men in black and gold and on the gameplay, I could not get that prick off my mind.

So eventually I gave up, turned off the game, and went to bed. I didn't know what I was thinking, going to bed this early, but I really didn't see that there was anything else to do. Of course, lying in bed only made things worse.

I closed my eyes, and I immediately pictured Loki's devilish smirk. That smirk had been on my mind almost constantly for the last week, and the more I thought about it, the more sexually appealing it became. At first it scared the wits out of me, but now I was obsessing over it.

The beginnings of sleep started to crawl over me. As I slowly started to drift towards unconsciousness, my inhibitions were lowered, allowing Loki to run wild through the dark parts of my twisted mind. My slowing breath turned ragged as I revisited the memories of the last time I saw him. Even now, almost a week later, I could still feel his hands everywhere he had touched me. What was even more torturous were the new fantasies of him that were running rampant through my mind.

"You are weak," the imagined image of him whispered in my mind, "give in to me, and I will give you what you desire."

I pictured him on all fours, leaning over me. I wanted so badly to know what he looked like naked, so I imagined it, and it made me moan softly in arousal and anticipation. He smirked at me, and one of his hands glided slowly up my thigh.

"I will bring you to the breaking point," he whispered seductively, "with naught but my fingers. And you, little mortal, will have no choice but to submit."

In my half-sleeping state, I was barely able to control my own hands, and they seemed to be controlled by my sub-conscious while my conscious mind controlled the imagery. My fingers slipped between my thighs, and I let out another moan as I imagined they were his fingers instead.

"Loki," I whispered, wishing that he were really there to hear me.

This made him…me… intensify the finger movement. A warm tingling sensation began under my fingers and rapidly spread throughout my body. It was invigorating, and the mental image of Loki's gorgeous body intensified the erotic sensation. My hips and back twisted in pleasure, and I cried out uncontrollably.

"Yes, my pet," his voice purred in my mind in response to my cries, "you belong to me."

"Yes," I moaned as if on autopilot.

"Then come to me," he said, "like I told you to."

I whimpered when his…my… grip tightened.

"Loki," I breathed in between short, ragged gasps.

"Obey me," he growled, "or I will continue this torment."

Fingernails dug into my soft flesh painfully. I screamed and woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. I was alone in my apartment, but I could feel his presence in my mind, and it made me shudder. Even my fantasies of him creeped me out. He had invaded the most secret and intimate parts of my mind, and it made me feel almost violated. It was as if he were planting thoughts into my mind and talking to me. I shook my head and caught my breath. It was nothing but a fucked up half-dream. On that note, I stood up and started getting ready for bed.

Jim had us doing pitch rehearsals.

Can you believe that? Rehearsals! For an energy fair!

Jim had us working practically around the clock for the next week. Everyone in PR had to go to the office on Saturday to finish up some work for him. It was impossible to finish everything in the eight-hour workday, so every night for the next week I ended up taking work home with me. I didn't actually mind the extra work. At this point keeping busy was the only way I was staying halfway sane. At least working to the point of exhaustion kept me from dwelling on Loki too much, and for that I was grateful.

Things had been very quiet on the Loki front lately. I stayed as far away from the Back Bay as I could, and as a result I avoided him entirely. The following Friday marked two weeks since the club incident, and thankfully, things had been uneventful. I was just starting to think that maybe I would never see him again.

That is, until I got the schedule and location of the energy fair.

"You've gotta be shitting me," I exclaimed under my breath, putting my head on my desk. It was a good thing I was alone in my cubicle, because I was visibly distraught. There were much bigger venues than this one, especially by the river. Why the hell did this fair _have_ to be in the one place I was trying to avoid at all costs?

It was in the Hynes Convention Center and Sheraton Hotel.

Which is exactly where Loki was staying.

It was all I could do to keep from crying in dismay. Why why _WHY_ did it have to be there? Of all the venues and hotels all over Boston, why did it have to be _there_?

The walls of my cubicle started closing in around me. I could feel my heart racing, and I was starting to hyperventilate. I was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen. I was shaking, and my chest was in searing pain.

Was I having a heart attack?

No, I was having a panic attack.

I needed some fresh air and fast before I fainted, or worse.

Practically gasping for air, I threw on my coat and rushed out of my cubicle. I announced to the secretary that I was taking an early lunch and stormed out of the office.

The air was biting cold, and the morning sun reflected brilliantly off the skyscraper windows. The city was buzzing with activity. I could hear the refreshing sounds of the wind, passing cars, the occasional horn, and the beeping, hissing, and clanging of delivery trucks. It was a beautiful mid-November day in Boston.

I decided to go for a short walk. I knew I couldn't wander far, but I had to keep moving and do something. So I started wandering around the streets surrounding my office building. It felt good to be out in my beloved city during the daylight hours, which were becoming scarcer as the days grew shorter. My breath billowed in a white cloud around my face, and the cold air nipped at my exposed ears, turning them pink.

When my extremities began to go numb, I wandered into the nearest Starbucks. I figured another cup of coffee, drunk in a relaxed atmosphere, would help ease my nerves. The heavenly aroma that filled my nose when I opened the foggy glass door made my mouth water with anticipation. Since it was the middle of the day, and most people were at work, the line was manageable, and soon I was sitting at a table enjoying my day's second cup of coffee.

As I sipped my drink, the café door opened, and in strolled a man and a woman. The woman had beautiful short, reddish-blond hair, a freckled face, and a gorgeous smile. She was the more casual of the pair, wearing a buttoned wool coat and jeans. The man was a brunette and had a receding hairline. His wool coat was unbuttoned, revealing a black suit, tie, and white shirt. They looked very normal, but for some reason they caught my interest immediately. I watched them indiscreetly as I eavesdropped on their conversation.

"While I am very glad to see you," said the woman, "I am curious as to what brings you all the way to Boston. Surely it can't be Tony."

"Unfortunately it is," the man replied, "it's nothing catastrophic at the moment, so don't worry. I just have to talk to him in person."

"About what?" the woman asked.

"It's classified," the man replied. "Though I can say that we need his help."

"It's gonna take some serious convincing," she said with a smirk, "after New York he's kind of fed up with all of this stuff. I don't blame him either. We _just now _finished the remodels."

"This matter may just convince him," he replied, "besides, he won't have to do much. We have other people on this as well."

"You're so vague, Phil," the woman laughed. "Seriously, you know I'm going to find out what's going on. Can't you give me a hint? The suspense is killing me!"

Phil hesitated a moment, and was then cut off by the barista who took their drink order.

"You remember that incident in New York?" he asked once their order had been placed.

"Who doesn't?" she replied.

"It's not over yet," Phil answered.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "I thought-"

"That's all I can tell you right now," he interjected, "but I'm sure you'll find out more as things unfold. I need to talk to Tony tomorrow as soon as he's available."

"I can arrange that," the woman replied.

As soon as she said that, the barista came with their drink orders. They quickly grabbed their cups, and they left as fast as they had come.

It was past seven o'clock by the time I finally left the office. Exhausted, overworked, and nervous as fuck about being at the Hynes tomorrow, I headed home. I decided that tonight enough was enough with work. I needed a night to just relax and unwind, because tomorrow was going to be a high-stakes, high-stress day. The combination of the pressure from my boss and the location of the fair made me a tightly wound ball of nerves that was about ready to explode.

Most of the night was uneventful. I managed to somehow avoid fantasizing about Loki as I fell asleep that night, focusing instead on the pitches I was supposed to deliver tomorrow. However, this effort did not help me once I was asleep, and Loki once again entered my dreams.

I dreamt that it was summertime, and that I was at Fenway Park at a Red Sox game. Keisha was with me, and we were both sporting Red Sox jerseys and hats. We were walking down Yawkey Way along with what must have been thousands of other people, all in Red Sox gear. The summertime sun glistened beautifully off the windows of the surrounding buildings. The warm summer wind jostled the "Yawkey Way" banners that hung over the streets. The championship banners rippled in the wind as well, as if waving at the crowd below in a sentimental reminder of previously celebrated glory.

I breathed in the fresh air and relished the warmth on my skin. It was truly a perfect place to be on a summer day like this.

But something was wrong. There were simply too many people, and there was barely any room to move. It felt like the park was over-capacity. I seemed to be the only one who noticed it. Keisha was oblivious to the excessive crowds, and instead kept insisting on buying an overpriced beer. My focus was instead on getting to our gate and getting our seats. However, the crowd was too unbearable to do either, and we were swallowed up in the swirling masses.

Suddenly I heard screaming. A cloud drifted over the sun, instantly plunging the street into a dim half-darkness. I saw the crowd begin to part as people ran frantically in all directions. The panic spread throughout the crowd, and Keisha and I were swept up in it. We began to run along with everyone else. I didn't know what we were running from or why, but I kept moving out of fear for my own safety.

"Forget the seats!" I shouted to Keisha. "Let's get out of here!"

We decided to make for the end of Yawkey Way and get out onto the main road as fast as possible. I didn't care where we ran as long as we made it there fast. However, we didn't make it very far, because we soon saw what everyone was running from.

Various pictures from all of the news articles I read about him created a whole new vision of him in my mind. Keisha and I stopped dead in our tracks when we saw the towering form of Loki just ahead. My heart rose into my throat at his regal shape, with his tall stature, broad shoulders, and menacing posture. He wore a trench coat of black, green, and gold. On his shoulders he wore gold armor, and an emerald green cape billowed behind his back as he walked toward us. His black hair was all but hidden under a glorious gold helmet, crowned with massive horns. In his hand he held some kind of gold spear with a glass orb that glowed electric blue.

He looked down his nose at the crowd with a mocking sneer. His eyes twinkled with delight as he watched everyone around him running in terror, parting the way for him as he strolled down Yawkey Way. Keisha tugged my arm and we ran, trying to stay ahead of him. He came to a stop in the middle of the street and slammed the end of his spear onto the ground. Instantly, copies of him appeared on all sides of the street, effectively corralling all of us so that no one could escape. The orbs on all of their spears glowed, creating a cage of blue and gold light around us.

Keisha and I stopped dead in our tracks, and I turned around to look at the real Loki. He held up his free hand toward the crowd, and in a voice that commanded regal authority yelled one simple command: "KNEEL!"

Terrified, everyone obeyed him. I tugged Keisha's sleeve and we knelt as well. The crowd fell silent, and soon we were all on our knees in complete, obedient, silence.

"Humanity!" the real Loki cried, slowing striding forward into the crowd. "I am Loki, of Asgard, and I come with glad tidings of a world made free."

Shit, he was headed in my direction. I put my head down and tried not to make eye contact with him.

"Is this not simpler?" he asked the crowd as he continued to slowly stride forward. "Is this not your natural state? It is a simple truth of humanity that you were made to be ruled. Freedom is your life's great lie, and I am here to finally set you free. I am here to relieve you of your burdens of power."

He paused his speech and laughed. He was now dangerously close to me. Keisha and I kept our heads down and our eyes cast toward the ground. I hoped and prayed that he wouldn't see me, and that I would be able to just melt into the crowd.

"Fear not," Loki continued, "for I am here to claim my place as your king. Pledge your loyalties to me, and I will set your hearts and minds free as they have never been before. And in your newfound freedom you shall submit your eternal allegiance to me, as I rule over the Earth as your benevolent god."

When he was right next to me, he stopped. I stole a quick glance up at him. His eyes were focused on the crowd around me, and fortunately he wasn't looking at the little mortal woman at his feet. His eyes sparkled in the dim glow with a combination of malice and insane ecstasy. His lips curled into a warm and haunting smile. In my kneeling position he towered over me, and I somehow found myself liking the view of him from this vantage point.

He laughed again. "Dear Emily, don't think I don't notice you down there," he said, making me choke on my own breath.

He cocked his head to the side and peered down at me. Various members of the crowd gasped, and some began to murmur. His emerald eyes bored into mine, paralyzing me with fear, and his smile turned playful. He turned fully toward me, and placed the index finger of his free hand under my chin.

"Rise," he commanded.

I obeyed, and rose to my feet, my heart racing wildly and my limbs trembling.

"Emily," he said in a mockingly scolding tone, "why do you try to hide from me? Do you still question my power over you? Do you pretend that you still have your freedom? My lady, I took that from you long ago." He shook his head and leaned his face toward me, keeping those emerald eyes focused on mine. "You were made to be ruled, just like them," he said, "now don't resist me any longer." His smile widened. He turned back to the crowd, who watched in fearful anticipation of what would happen to me. "Behold," he said to the crowd, "let this woman be an example."

He wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, and with his other hand he brought the tip of his spear hovering mere inches from my chest. "You have a strong heart," he whispered to me. With that, he gently touched the tip of his spear to my chest, directly over my heart.

My mind suddenly went blank. A tight, warming sensation gripped my chest, and I felt dizzy and weak. My knees gave out, and I collapsed. Loki wrapped his arm around my back and caught me mid-fall, cradling my limp body and holding it to his. My vision began to blur and every sound around me was muffled. I could faintly hear screaming and shouting, and I made out the sound of Keisha's nearby screams. I tried to stay conscious, but my efforts were failing. I was slipping.

Was this what it felt like to die?

The last image I saw before my vision went black was Loki's eyes and his evil grin.

The dream shifted. My dream-self woke with a start. I was disoriented. All around me was a faint, gold light. Candlelight. I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus on what was around me.

I was sprawled on my back on a bed covered with gold and green blankets. The bed was soft, and warm from my body heat. Once my vision cleared, I sat up, my head searing with pain. I looked down at my body and gasped. I was dressed in an emerald green medieval gown.

"What the hell-" I said, examining my clothes in complete wonder and confusion. I looked around the room, but in the dim candlelight I couldn't make out much.

I jumped when I head the door to the room open. I gasped when I saw Loki enter. He was dressed in his black, green and gold trench coat. His cape, helmet, and spear were gone. The candlelight glimmered on the metal parts of his coat, creating a golden hue around his body.

"Where am I?" I asked bravely. I was scared, but at the same time I was angry and not in the mood for any more of his mind games.

"Does it matter?" Loki asked playfully, continuing to approach me.

"Yes it absolutely does," I snapped, "what am I doing here? Why am I here? What did you do to me?"

Loki walked over to the side of the bed, so that he was directly in front of me. He placed his index finger to my lips.

"Shhh," he whispered, "in time, all will be revealed. But first…" his finger trailed slowly down my chin and then down my neck. "…I need you to pledge your loyalties to me."

The lower his finger went, the more aroused I became. He slowly ran all four of his fingers down my chest, and eventually rested his hand on my heart.

"You have a strong heart," he whispered again, "and it is mine now."

"What did you do to do me?" I asked as strongly as I could in my shaking voice.

"I merely claimed what was already mine," he said. He smiled softly at me and took me by the hand. "Rise, my pet," he commanded.

I complied and stood up.

"Bare yourself for me," he commanded again.

Every part of my mind was screaming not to, but my body was acting on its own. Obediently, I reached behind my back and untied the sashes holding on the dress. Once I had them undone, I let the dress fall to my feet. Now completely nude before him, I cast my eyes downward out of embarrassment.

I felt his finger glide under my chin and lift my face toward his. I bit my lip to keep from crying in fear and embarrassment.

"Do not turn your face away from your king," he said in a stern yet gentle tone. "I want you to look at me as I take you, so that I may see the look in your eyes, and you see the look in mine." He looked me up and down, and I bit my lip harder. I felt like fainting again.

"Why are you trembling?" he asked.

"I'm frightened," I admitted.

"As you should be," he whispered.

"What will you do to me?" I asked meekly.

He looked into my eyes and smirked. "I will merely take what is already mine," he replied. He looked at me again, drew a breath, and smiled. His expression was full of desire. "You are ravishing," he said, his smile spreading wider.

Suddenly, he wrapped his hands around my back and drew me up against him. The cold metal and leather against my bare skin sent shudders down my spine. My heart and mind melted when he kissed me. I had been longing for this ever since that night at the club. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and drew myself further into his embrace. He then clasped his hands around my waist and abruptly threw me onto the bed.

There I lay, completely exposed and sprawled out before him, with my legs slightly parted. My breath was ragged and irregular. I was frightened and aroused at the same time. Loki smirked again, and his eyes glinted with greed and desire. With graceful cat-like movements, he crawled onto the bed over me, and hovered above me on all fours. I looked up into his beautiful eyes, and his gaze hypnotized me into perfectly compliant submission.

Loki chuckled mercilessly as his lips trailed down my neck and down my chest. I squirmed in delight under him. His hands gripped my wrists firmly above my head, effectively pinning me down onto the bed. His eyes grew dark with sinister delight as they looked into mine again.

"You are mine, Emily," he whispered, "Never forget that."

Suddenly, the dream vanished with the blaring sound of my alarm clock.

I practically screamed and sat bolt upright. Caesar and the Lady, who had been sleeping at my feet, screeched and leapt off the bed in surprise. I sat there for a moment, disoriented, and panting like I had just ran a marathon. My heart raced and my head was dizzy.

When I finally came to my senses, I realized that I was still in my apartment. The dream had seemed frighteningly real, and I sighed in relief when I realized that it was all indeed a dream.

"Good morning, Boston!" the radio announcer exclaimed. "And happy Saturday morning. We've got the top 30 hits in the USA for you this morning, being brought to you by-"

Shit, it was Saturday morning.

It was energy fair time.

With my heart heavy with the dread of the day ahead, I got up and started getting ready to head to the Hynes.

Luckily, my company's table was in the Hynes, not the Sheraton, so I didn't actually have to step foot inside Loki's hotel. I figured with my luck he would find me anyway, but I still hoped that the crowds would successfully hide me.

And boy was it crowded. When my boss said every name in energy along with thousands of investors would be there, he meant it. Not long after the fair started, there were massive throngs of people in business suits all over the place. As my boss predicted, our booth was attracting plenty of attention, along with the other investment consulting booths nearby. Yes, we were all grouped together in the same area, making the stakes of my job even higher. Despite my feelings of dread and resentment for the location of this place, I did everything I could to plaster a smile across my face and greet everyone with a warm welcome and a firm handshake.

By midday, about two hours into the fair, I was already exhausted. The other PR reps and I had managed to lure in dozens of potential clients, and more were coming by the droves. In between pitches, one of the PR reps named Marshall and I began chitchatting casually.

"Hanging in there?" he asked.

"Trying to," I replied with a sigh of exhaustion.

"We'll get a break around 2," he replied, "they'll close the fair for about an hour for lunch and some video presentation in the main hall."

"Thank goodness," I said breathlessly. "I think if I hear one more thing about someone wanting to invest in clean energy, I am going to scream."

Marshall laughed. "Speaking of clean energy," he replied, "look who's got a table right near us."

I followed his finger to the far side of the room. There was a string of tables with a very large glowing display of some sort. It was hard to make out exactly what the glowing display was through the crowds, but judging by the number of people it was gathering, it must have been impressive.

"I can't tell," I replied.

"Look at the logo," he said, continuing to point, "right there."

I craned my neck and tried my best to see. I made out a few letters at first, and then as people shifted around, I was able to see the entire logo.

It read "Stark Industries."

And then, to my amazement, standing right below the logo was Tony Stark himself.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Everyone in the world knew who Tony Star was. Even I, who had barely paid attention to the catastrophe in New York, knew his face and name. If people didn't know him for his company, they knew him for the Stark Tower, and if they didn't know him for that, they definitely knew him for his exploits as Iron Man. I vividly remembered seeing the news coverage when Tony Stark bravely announced to the entire world: "I'm Iron Man." The alien invasion of New York only fueled his fame and skyrocketed him to the status of pop culture icon.

Stark had made a major splash in the financial scene as well. He was a pioneer in his industry, a billionaire giant and an investor's dream. My firm had advised a number of clients to invest in Stark's company, and the results had paid off tremendously. He was a well-oiled machine that showed no signs of slowing down. It made sense that he was here, but his presence at just the other end of the hall almost made the stakes of my job seem higher. No wonder my boss had been so excited about this.

Over the next couple of hours I stole glances over to his table and watched him with curious eyes. He had a lazy posture, a calm and fluid demeanor, and his body language communicated his confidence and sense of self-importance. He was one of those men who knew his place in the world, and wasn't afraid to flaunt his importance. I had heard that he was arrogant and self-obsessed, and after observing just his body language for a couple hours, I could definitely see that this was true.

The crowds started to thin just before noon. I was very happy for the upcoming lunch break. My feet were aching in my black heels, and I wanted nothing more than to sit down, eat, and nurse the headache that was already starting. At noon the crowds disappeared altogether, and the vendors started to pack up their tables for the break. Now that there were less people, I had a clear view of Tony Stark's table. There was Stark and a couple of men in business suits working with him. His logo gleamed an electric blue on the wall above his head. He strutted around proudly with a smirk that resembled both pride and amusement. He seemed to be enjoying all of the attention he had been receiving over the last few hours.

He must have sensed me staring at him because he suddenly looked right at me. I smiled and turned away, cursing myself for looking like a gawking idiot at one of the most prominent businessmen in the world. To keep myself busy I helped my co-workers re-organize the brochures and business cards into neat, orderly piles, all the while stealing glances at Stark's table.

His presence here intrigued me for a number of reasons. I knew he was here because of the prestige of this fair, but I found it a tremendously ironic coincidence that he was in Boston at the exact same time as Loki. Of course I knew that Stark was a key player in Loki's defeat in New York and in his (supposed) capture. I wondered if Stark knew that Loki was here in Boston, and if so, what he intended to do about the villainous demigod. Or maybe this was all just some massive coincidence?

Suddenly I saw a woman emerge from the crowd of men in business suits over at Stark's table. I gasped when I saw that it wasn't just any woman. I immediately recognized her reddish-blond hair, freckled cheeks, and her gorgeous smile, for it was the woman I had seen in Starbucks yesterday. She adorned a black woman's business suit, and her hair was neatly styled in a bun on the back of her head. From the way she and Stark spoke with each other I could tell that they were more than co-workers.

"Emily," Marshall said, snapping me back to reality, "a bunch of us are going to Firehouse Subs for lunch. Do you want to join us?"

I hadn't really thought about my lunch plans yet. "I dunno, let me think about it," I replied absent-mindedly.

I turned back to Stark's table and gasped audibly when I saw who had just joined them. The man I had seen from Starbucks yesterday had appeared, and he was talking to Stark and the woman. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but Stark's expression was a combination of annoyance and indifference. The woman, however, smiled broadly as she spoke and kept tugging Stark's sleeve.

Phil, as the woman had called him yesterday, was wearing the same black suit, white shirt, and black tie as yesterday. He blended in with all of the other black suits, but something about him made him look like someone out of the CIA. He had his hands in his pants pockets, and he spoke confidently, despite Stark's repeated attempts to ignore him. After several attempts, Stark finally managed to break away from the conversation. He headed toward the hall exit, which was right next to our table. I tensed up when Stark strutted over towards me, with Phil not far behind him.

"Phil, for God's sakes I'm not interested," Stark said, throwing up his hands, "I'm kind of working right now if you can't tell."

"This is a matter of national security, Stark," Phil replied, frantic to keep up with the businessman.

"Whatever cataclysmic thing is going on now can wait a few hours until I'm done here," Stark replied. "This is really kind of important, you know. I've got a lot of investors to reel in, if you know what I mean."

"I realize that," Phil replied, "but this is more important. Now if you would please just come with me, it won't take long-"

"Phil," Stark interjected, "it's my lunch break, and I'm hungry."

"But-" Phil started.

"No buts!" Stark said, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm in Boston, therefore I am going to get some Boston chowder. Have you ever had the clam chowder here?"

"I confess I haven't," Phil replied.

"Really?" Stark asked, genuinely surprised. "Come on then, I'll treat you. And then you can tell me all about how the world is going to end again."

They were walking right by my table as he said this, and then they were gone.

"I'm gonna pass on the subs, Marshall," I announced, "I'm craving clam chowder."

The Hynes Convention Center and the Sheraton hotel are both attached to the Prudential Center Mall, which like every mall in the world has a food court. Within this food court was the infamous Boston Chowdah. It is well known, and I knew right away that this was the place Stark was headed for when he said he wanted clam chowder.

Sure enough, I found Stark and Phil already in line at Boston Chowdah. The food court was absolutely packed, as it usually was, but, the crowds today were much worse because of the events in the Hynes and Sheraton. The lines for food were enormous, and the line at Boston Chowdah was no exception. Fortunately, I had kept up with Stark and Phil, and therefore was only two spots behind them in line, so I could hear every word they said.

"I still can't believe you followed me all the way to Boston for this," said Stark, "I mean honestly, I'm flying back to New York in a couple of days. Couldn't this wait?"

"Unfortunately no," Phil replied. "But this really isn't a good place to talk about-"

"Oh, Phil, relax," Stark said, patting Phil on the back reassuringly, "no one's listening. And actually, neither am I."

"Stark, this isn't anything to joke around about,"

"You want a bread bowl?" Stark asked, completely ignoring his flustered companion.

"No, I'm actually not that hungry," Phil replied.

"Hmm, a shame," said Stark, reading the menu and continuing to ignore him.

The line moved fairly quickly, and it was soon time for Stark and Phil to order.

"So, do you want a bread bowl or what?" Stark asked.

"No, just a cup is fine," Phil replied, still flustered.

"Oh come on you gotta get a bread bowl," Stark said teasingly.

"Can I help you?" the man behind the counter asked.

"Ya two medium clam chowders, both in bread bowls," Stark replied, to which Phil rolled his eyes.

"Ma'am, can I help you?" another worker said to me.

"Ya, small clam chowder in a cup please," I replied.

I kept a close eye on Stark and Phil as I paid for my food. I had every intention of sitting near them because my curiosity had now been peaked. I followed them as they wandered the food court looking for a table, taking care to keep my distance to avoid detection. After a little bit of wandering, Stark led us to a slightly less-crowded section of the food court near Pizzeria Regina. There were a few empty tables directly to the right of the pizza vendor, and this is where both of us ended up sitting. From where I was sitting, I could see all of the workers behind the counter of Pizzeria Regina, busily taking orders, passing around pizza slices, and cashing out customers at the registers. My table was the closest to the pizza vendor, and Stark and Phil were at the table right in front of me, also next to Pizzeria Regina. I pulled out my phone and pretended to be engrossed in it as I listened to their conversation.

"Really, Stark, this is not a good place to discuss this," Phil muttered.

"Phil, if you want to talk to me, now's your chance," Stark replied without the slightest attempt to keep his voice down. "Because after this I'm going back in there, and I'm not talking to you anymore. Now come on, what is all this fuss about?"

"It's about New York," Phil replied.

"Ya, what about it?" Stark asked, eating his first spoonful of chowder. "Oooh that's good," he said, gesturing at Phil, "try yours."

Phil complied, smiled, and agreed with Stark's sentiments about the chowder.

I nibbled on my chowder and continued to pretend to play on my phone. My heart raced at the impending conversation, which I was now certain was going to involve Loki. Stark and Phil sat there for a moment eating, and all the while my heart continued to pound.

Suddenly, I saw a green light flicker out of the corner of my right eye for a split second. It was coming from Pizzeria Regina. I turned my head and nearly choked on my chowder when I saw him. He was barely recognizable, and he definitely was not there a minute ago. He had just appeared out of nowhere, and no one but me had seemed to notice it, not even Stark, or Phil, or the Pizzeria Regina workers. I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes, convinced that I was seeing things.

I definitely wasn't seeing things; a pair of familiar emerald eyes reassured me of that. Loki smirked at me and winked. I couldn't believe how well he blended in. He was cleverly disguised as a Pizzeria Regina worker, dressed in black food-service pants, a white polo shirt, and black sneakers. He wore a stained, white apron, and his black hair was held back by a blue bandana. He effortlessly pretended to be one of the employees, fetching bottled drinks and passing boxed slices of pizza to customers. He stood near the register closest to the tables, so that he was right next to Stark's table and mine. While he pretended to work, he kept glancing at Stark and Phil, who were completely oblivious to his presence here. It was clear that he was listening to the same conversation I was.

"So what's going on in New York?" Stark asked.

"It's about the invasion," Phil replied, "you see-"

"Wait a minute," Stark interrupted, "that whole thing's over and done with. I nearly got myself killed, that damn thing had better be done with."

"It's not, unfortunately," Phil replied.

"Oh yes it is," Stark said in denial, "Loki got his ass handed to him and now he's rotting in some prison on Asgard."

"As we were all led to believe," Phil replied. He paused for a moment and sighed. "Two days ago we got a communication from Thor," he continued, "apparently Loki never made it back to Asgard."

I stole a glance over at Loki. A smile curled on the corner of his mouth.

"So then where the hell is he?" Stark asked, looking visibly enraged.

"That's just it," Phil replied, "we don't know. According to Thor, he first thought that Loki had escaped from prison and was hiding somewhere on Asgard. Thor said they practically tore Asgard apart looking for him, but found no trace of him ever being there. Thor is now looking on other worlds to see where Loki might have fled."

"It's a big Universe," Stark replied sarcastically, "the little shit could be anywhere."

"That's the problem," said Phil. "But in his message, Thor said he has a feeling Loki never left Earth."

"Now _that _is impossible," Stark said, threateningly pointing his plastic spoon at Phil. "I saw that son of a bitch handcuffed with a dog muzzle on his face. I saw him teleport away with Thor. You _cannot _tell me he never left earth."

"It is still a good possibility," Phil answered. "Come on, Stark, you've seen what he can do, the illusions he can create. He can have you believing anything he wants you to believe."

"No, no, no," Stark said in denial, "I am not hearing this."

"Stark," Phil said impatiently, "there is a very good possibility that Loki is still somewhere here on Earth. We have every satellite and remote camera in the world scanning for him, but it's going to take some time."

"Oh this sounds eerily familiar," Stark growled. "I can't believe we're doing this AGAIN."

"We need your help, Stark," Phil replied, "so far scans have picked up nothing, but we still have a lot of territory to cover."

"So what do you want me to do?" Stark asked.

"Thor has specifically requested the help of the Avengers team," Phil replied, "he wants all of you to help in the effort to find Loki."

"So I'm guessing everyone else on the team's getting the same spiel I am," said Stark.

"As we speak," Phil answered.

Stark sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. His eyes were slightly widened in a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

"Your scans aren't going to do much," said Stark.

"What makes you say that?" Phil asked, continuing to eat his chowder.

"Think about it," Stark replied, "Loki got his ass kicked just a short time ago. He lost his army, he lost the Tesseract, _and _he lost his glow stick. Now he's on the run from Thor who's hunting him down. This isn't going to be easy like the last time we found him in Germany. He's vulnerable now, so he's going to hide very well. If he's on Earth he's going to do everything in his power to keep low and stay off S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar. In short, you're never going to find him just using cameras."

"What do you suppose we do then?" Phil asked.

"I don't know, I haven't thought of that yet," Stark replied, "but I'm gonna help you find this little slimeball and get him off this planet once and for all."

"I'm surprised," Phil said with a smile, "you're the last person I pictured volunteering for this."

"Let's say it's a personal vendetta," Stark replied, "I want to see him gone, for good this time. Get me Barton. Loki was in his head, he can probably help us out. And Banner too, he's useful. And where the hell is Thor in all this?"

"Thor said he'll be here in a couple weeks," Phil replied, "something about the Bifrost. But he said that he will be here as soon as he can to help in the search."

"It's his brother," Stark grumbled, "he shouldn't be taking a couple weeks."

"He'll come eventually," said Phil. "The entire Avengers team is assembling. They're slowly trickling in. I'll get you the meeting location later today, and we can talk more then. Oh, and Steve is here too."

"What do you mean here? In Boston?" Stark asked.

"Ya, he came along for the ride," Phil replied, "it was for somewhat personal reasons too. He said he wanted to pay you a visit. He also said that he had never been to Boston, so I put him on a Duck Tour."

"And you didn't invite me?" Stark asked jokingly.

"You're working," Phil reminded him.

They both laughed and proceeded to finish their lunch. Their conversation turned more lighthearted, and as soon as they finished their chowder, they parted ways and left. I looked at my phone and saw that the lunch break was drawing to a close, so I quickly finished my now cold chowder and got ready to head back to the Hynes. As I was putting my phone away and putting my suit coat back on, I felt a cold hand brush my arm. My heart stopped when out of the corner of my eye I saw Loki hovering just over my shoulder.

"Good work, my pet," Loki's smooth, icy voice whispered into my ear. Before I could say anything or even fully react, he was gone.

I spent the rest of the fair in a kind of daze. Luckily the crowds prevented me from staring at the Stark Industries booth too much, and I tried everything in my power to keep myself sharp and focused. It was a strain to greet everyone with a smile, and it was even harder to concentrate on the conversations I was having with potential clients. My mind was, in fact, in total chaos.

Finally the event ended. My PR co-workers were practically dancing with joy. "We're booked solid for the next six months!" Marshall exclaimed. Everyone was jubilant, and I pretended to be excited as well. In truth, all I wanted to do was go home and cry, and maybe have a drink too.

I proceeded to help my co-workers pack up our booth. As I was putting rubber bands on all the brochures, fliers, and business cards, someone approached me from behind.

I gasped when the voice of Tony Stark said "excuse me."

I spun around and nearly dropped the papers I was carrying. My co-workers turned around as well, and I thought a couple of them were going to faint when they saw who had just come up to our booth. I myself was in disbelief that this was happening.

I hastily put down the papers and greeted Stark. I held out my hand, and he shook it gladly. His handshake was firm, like a truly accomplished and confident businessman. The reddish-blond woman was with him, and she smiled and shook my hand as well. Her hands were warm and soft, and she too had a firm grip.

"This is my right-hand woman, Miss Pepper Potts," Stark replied, "and my name is-"

"Mr. Stark," I said, "I'm Emily Sanborn. It's an honor to meet both of you. How can we help you?"

"I happened to notice the crowds over here," Pepper replied, "and saw that you're a financial consulting firm. Obviously a well known one, considering the number of people you were drawing."

"We are one of Boston's top consulting firms," I boasted in my sales pitch voice. My heart was racing. I couldn't believe that Tony Stark had come over here, to talk business of all things, after I had _just _listened to him talk about his plan to hunt down Loki.

"Excellent," said Stark, "because we're looking for investors."

"We're looking to open a Stark Industries branch here in Boston," Pepper added with a smile.

"Very nice," I said, smiling back at her. Even though I was excruciatingly nervous, her smile was warm and comforting, and it helped me stay focused. "I'm sure Boston will provide a very suitable market for you. We New Englanders are very keen on clean energy, and we are environmentally conscious up here."

"Which, funny enough, is precisely why we want a branch in the New England area," said Stark.

_Ha_, I thought to myself, _one of those big, ugly Stark Towers on the Boston skyline? Ya, the Bostonians are NEVER going to go for that._

"We were hoping maybe your firm could help us acquire some investors," Pepper said.

"We advise whatever is in the best interest of the client," I replied. I quickly pulled a brochure and a business card out of the pile and handed them to Pepper. "We would be happy to help in whatever way possible. I'm going to refer you to one of our main consultants. John? You back there somewhere?"

On queue, John emerged from behind the crowd of my co-workers. He shook hands with Pepper and Stark and introduced himself.

"Thank you for your interest," I said, "John here will answer any further questions you may have." I shook Pepper and Stark's hands again. "It was a real pleasure meeting both of you."

"Same, Ms. Sanborn," Stark said almost absentmindedly.

John then took the reigns, allowing me to slip away. He led them over to a set of chairs to the left of our table, and the three of them began talking business. I let out a sigh of relief, and I could feel leftover adrenaline surging through my veins, causing me to tremble slightly. Everything had happened so fast, and I was barely coming to terms with the fact that I had just done a pitch to Tony Stark. My co-workers patted me on the back and whispered words of encouragement and congratulations to me.

I honestly didn't give a damn about the business aspect of all this, and I could care less what Stark wanted with our company. My sole concern was the fact that Tony Stark had approached me directly only a few hours after I eavesdropped on his conversation. Did he notice me sitting near them earlier? Did he notice that I was eavesdropping? I didn't think so, but now I was worried. Or was this all just another massive coincidence? I hoped and prayed that it was the later. And I knew that if Stark was going to get involved with our company, I would be seeing a lot more of him.

I made a few half-assed attempts at helping my co-workers pack up, made an excuse of not feeling well, and left. Limping slightly from the sharp aches and pains in my feet, I made my way out of the Hynes Convention Center and back into the Prudential Center. The crowds had not thinned in the four hours since lunchtime, and the mall was still filled with swarms of shoppers. I grabbed a coffee at the Dunkin Donuts in the mall next to the Hynes, figuring that the caffeine would help ease my nerves.

Sitting down over a small cup of coffee did help some, but my head was still burning with curiosity. As I stepped out of the Dunkin Donuts, I couldn't help but gaze at the hotel entrance at the other end of the hall. My heart fluttered at the thought of who was residing just beyond those doors.

_When your desire becomes too much to bear, you will willingly come crawling back to me. I will be waiting for you._

After hearing the conversation between Stark and Phil, I was burning with curiosity. I was very tempted to walk through those doors, find him, and demand to know why he was here and why I was being dragged into this. It was clear that I was going to get involved with Loki, with Stark, and with Thor whether I liked it or not, and I wanted nothing more than to know why. I wanted to know what Loki wanted from me. After listening to Phil and Stark, I knew that this whole thing was going to get very messy very quickly. I didn't want anything to do with this, and I was dying to tell Loki that to his face.

It was an impulse of the most idiotic nature. If anything bad happened to me, it was going to be my fault. I should have just let it go. I should have taken a vacation, run far away, and hid until it was all over. I should've… I could've… I would've… those kinds of thoughts have been running in my head nonstop since that moment. The decision I made in that moment was the best and worst decision I have ever made. Again, I am still trying to figure out which it was. But what would have or could have happened if I chose the alternative is irrelevant. I made a decision in that moment, and all of the events that have since unfolded have been a direct result of it. No matter how much the rational, logical part of my brain screamed not to, the wild and dangerous part of my mind decided to make my way over to the hotel entrance.

My body moved slow and painfully, and I thought my heart was going to rip itself apart from nervousness. My chest was tight and breathing was difficult. But I continued on, across the carpeted hallway and over to the elevator. I vividly remembered the day I dropped him off here, and I still remembered his room number. With my heart racing and my hand shaking, I pressed the up arrow on the elevator and waited. It was the longest wait of my life.

_Em, you're insane._

I knew I was insane. But I needed answers.

_Just let it go._

I can't let it go.

_You're going to get yourself killed._

Perhaps.

The light above the elevator glowed. I heard the distinctive ding of the elevator arriving. There was no turning back now.

The elevator door slid open with a soft rumble. As it slid to the side, the outline of a man appeared, a tall man in a black suit and black coat. His pale face was twisted into the slightest hint of an insane smile, and his green eyes peered sharply down at me.

I gasped and took a few steps back. I was not expecting this.

"Well well" Loki purred, striding gracefully out of the elevator. "Look who's finally come to see me."

"You knew I'd come now?" I asked weakly.

"I've been waiting for you," he said, still striding toward me. I froze in my tracks, now realizing what a colossally bad idea this was. But it was too late now.

He towered over me, his eyes gazing sharply down at me, burning into me. All of my independent will and resolve melted under his gaze.

"Come," he said, placing his arm across my shoulders, "let's walk, shall we?"

"Where are we going?" I asked meekly.

He chuckled. "That's for you to decide," he replied. His eyes darted around. Despite his cool and calculating demeanor, I could tell something was making him nervous. Something was definitely wrong, and the thought of what it could be scared me.

He gently pushed my shoulders to usher me along, and I obeyed. My feet were throbbing, and I was in no shape to walk much further. But he was leaving me no other choice. Plus I figured it was probably best to run from whatever was in this hotel that was making him so nervous. His expression darkened as we started to move, and he continued to look around and over his shoulder. He set a quick pace once we left the hotel.

"It's no longer safe here," he growled quietly as we blended ourselves with the Prudential Center crowd. "We must leave, now."


End file.
